Chapter 1

Prologue

After it was all over, after the armies of Elves and Men had honoured the fallen after their fashion – after it became completely clear to Tauriel that there would be no reconciliation with her erstwhile king – she found herself standing alone on the ruins of the city walls. The air was thick with the stench of smoke and death.

The wind teased at her hair and made her eyes burn. Her gaze flickered to the Lonely Mountain, but even it was hidden in the haze. The Dwarves would be celebrating their victory now.

And mourning their dead.

Tauriel heard footfalls behind her and turned. "My Lord Legolas," she said, and wondered if she still had the right to call him that.

His eyes were dark with emotion. "I'm leaving. I'm heading west, to find the Dúnedain. Will you come with me?"

Her breath caught in her throat. The thought was like the sudden finality of her bow snapping – unnatural, inconceivable. She shook her head. "I started this," she said. "I will see it through to the end."

"You will stay here, in Dale," he stated.

"If they will have me."

Legolas looked at her searchingly, then glanced away. She realised he had not expected her to say yes. "My father will forgive you."

She smiled. "The Elvenking does not easily forget slights."

"He will see reason," said Legolas. She wished she shared his faith. "I must go. I have a lot of ground to cover before nightfall."

"Take care," she said. She wished she had some token to give him – something to remind him that no matter what, he was still her oldest and dearest friend. "Be sure that you bring back new songs."

He laughed. "I am sure I will. Be well, Tauriel."

And then he was gone.

The wind howled across the battleground to the south, bringing no comfort. The land beyond these walls was drenched with blood and the stone beneath her feet was little better. She turned and descended the ruined staircase to the city.

With Thranduil's party on their way back to the Woodland Realm, and Legolas departed for parts unknown to the west, she was suddenly aware of how utterly alone she was.

All she had to her name now was her tattered clothing, two knives, and a rune-stone gifted to her by an uncommonly charming Dwarf. Her bow lay broken somewhere in the battleground, she knew not where.

"Lady Tauriel!" a voice cried ahead, and she looked up to find Tilda and Sigrid racing towards her with their father and brother in tow. She greeted them with a relieved smile.

The new King of Dale approached her. "My family and I owe you more than we can ever repay," he said, bowing to her with his hands clasped. "Please, if there is anything I can do for you."

"There is nothing I would ask, save a place to live," she said.

"I can only offer you ruins," he replied. "But those you may have for as long as you wish."

--

I
One year after the Battle of the Five Armies

Tauriel returned to the Healer's workshop early, a meagre handful of wolf's bane and marigold to add to their stores. Estrella clucked at her pragmatically. "It's late in the season for herb-gathering," she said. "We'll just have to make do with what we have when winter sets in."

Tauriel nodded in agreement. "I should make up some swelling reduction salve while this is still fresh."

Estrella turned back to her bandage weaving, and soon settled into a steady of the day's gossip while they worked.

Healing should never have been part of Tauriel's duties as Guard Captain, but Thranduil's kingdom could spare no hands in the war against the evil rising in the forest. It was no different in Dale. Estrella was too old to gather herbs comfortably, and her eyesight, she liked to complain, was getting worse every day.

A runner came to the door, asking for Estrella to come take a look at a colicky babe. The people of Dale had wasted no time in beginning the repopulation of their city. Tauriel had met more children in the last year than she had in the six hundred before.

"Do you need me to come?" asked Tauriel.

Estrella snorted. "What do you know of babes? I've been doing this since you were— well, for decades without help."

Tauriel didn't take offence. She smiled. "Then you have my best wishes."

Most of their visitors had minor injuries – cuts and bruises courtesy of the rebuilding efforts, sometimes broken bones that required more attention. Estrella dealt with these in a matter-of-fact manner, sympathetic without being cloying. But she had twice been roused in the middle of the night to treat poisoned wounds from creatures that used to call Dol Guldur home. Those Estrella was poorly-equipped to deal with.

Once Estrella was gone, Tauriel took another handful of herbs and began mashing them into a pulp. It was the kind of simple, repetitive work that she enjoyed in quiet moments like these, when she could almost forget the creeping feeling she needed to watch her back.

Somebody rang the front bell and Tauriel removed her apron to walk down to the main level.

Two Dwarves stood in the doorway, peering up at her with thinly-veiled suspicion. One of them leant on a cane roughly fashioned out of a tree branch.

"My lady has a wound on her leg that isn't healing," said the uninjured Dwarf. "The guards said you'd be able to help." The Dwarf frowned at Tauriel dubiously.

Tauriel managed not to react, although she was intrigued to be meeting a lady Dwarf. If she hadn't been told, Tauriel doubted she would have guessed. Her beard was as full and intricately braided as any other Dwarf Tauriel had met, and her figure hidden by the bulk of her clothing.

"Yes, I can help," Tauriel told them. "Come in." She led them inside and sat the lady Dwarf down with her leg out-stretched. "Did you see what caused the wound?"

"It was a creature like a weasel but with scales," said the Dwarf lady. "We managed to beat it off, but not before it took a good bite out of my leg. The pain is growing worse, although it is not yet unbearable. My companion insisted we stop here."

"May I see it?" asked Tauriel.

The Dwarf lady pulled up her skirts and pants to reveal a loosely-bound bandage. With her permission, Tauriel unwound it carefully.

The wound wasn't large, but it was an angry red colour and she could see the red lines of infection taking hold. She could make out the neat holes of the creature's incisors, surrounded by smaller imprints of shorter teeth. "I've seen this before," said Tauriel. "I can give you a salve to rub on it twice a day, and you should keep it unbound. If possible, try to stay off the leg. Agitating it will spread the venom."

She went to fetch the salve. When she returned, she found the Dwarves watching her curiously. "If I keep my weight off it until we reach Erebor, will that be enough?" asked the lady Dwarf.

Tauriel hesitated. "I would be more confident if you were to find a wheelbarrow or litter on which to make the journey. If you are too active, the infection may spread. I am sorry."

"If that is what must be done, I suppose I can sacrifice my dignity to save my leg," sighed the Dwarf lady. She signalled for her companion to come closer. "See what you can do about finding a barrow or a litter in the city. Take my purse."

The other Dwarf scuttled off into the city.

Tauriel began rubbing the salve into the wound. Only a slight tension gave away that the Dwarf felt any pain. "To be truthful, it would be better if you could stay here for a few days, but you must be eager to see your home and family again. I would not keep you from that."

"I intend to have words with my family," muttered the Dwarf. "But I am impatient to have them around to do so." She watched Tauriel work for a moment. "On that subject, can you tell me what an Elf lady is doing living in this city of Men?"

"I chose to stay," said Tauriel, her standard answer to the question.

The Dwarf snorted. "I shouldn't have expected a real answer from an Elf. Then perhaps can you tell me why the townspeople stare at us with such anger? We were all allies in the battle, no?"

Tauriel considered her answer for a long moment. "The people of Dale see that there would never have been a dragon if it had not been for the Dwarves, and they see that even now the Dwarves offer no assistance to their neighbours. The Dwarves send no greetings to the King of Dale and no trade agreements have been ventured. The doors of Erebor remain as tightly sealed as they were in the days of the Dragon."

"The Dwarves of Erebor have much of their own rebuilding to do," said the Dwarf. "Their city was destroyed by the dragon too. And no help did they receive from Men or Elves at that time."

"I'm giving you my observation, not my opinion. This is what I hear from the townsfolk."

"And what is your opinion?" asked the Dwarf.

Tauriel shrugged. "Merely that Dwarves and Men do not have the same skills, and I think there would be much for both to gain if they were to work together. If there is to be peace between these two – three – kingdoms, it cannot come soon enough."

The Dwarf watched her with shrewd eyes, and Tauriel suspected she hadn't missed the correction. "We tried to seek help from the wood Elves when we were attacked. Our pleas went unanswered."

"I am dismayed to hear it," said Tauriel. "There is much to be healed between our peoples, although I have no influence of my own over the Woodland Realm."

"Well, we'll see what we can do about that," murmured the Dwarf, so quietly she probably intended it to be for her own ears.

The other Dwarf returned, towing a barrow lined with straw and a thick blanket. "I hope this will do. It was all I could find."

The Dwarf lady pursed her lips. "Truly, this will be a queen's entrance to Erebor."

"Better that than lose the leg," said Tauriel. She had no patience for those who valued dignity over their health.

The Dwarf lady huffed. "Do I owe you anything for the service?"

Tauriel named Estrella's standard fee plus the cost of the salve. The Dwarves paid without argument, although the uninjured one looked somewhat scandalised.

Tauriel watched them wind their way through the city until they disappeared from view. She wondered if she should have asked them to carry a message – but what would she even have said?

Estrella returned shortly thereafter and berated her for woolgathering. Tauriel shrugged off her thoughts and requested details of the new child.

--

Tilda was not feeling cooperative that afternoon. Bain had begged off lessons for the day, pleading illness – Tauriel had sent for Estrella to make certain it was not anything serious – and Tilda saw no reason that lessons for all of them shouldn't be cancelled as a result.

"Because you're a princess now, and princesses have to do their lessons," said Sigrid.

"But I don't want to be a princess," she said, sticking her bottom lip out. "I want to be a warrior, like Tauriel."

"Can you not do both?" asked Tauriel. She had been assuming the girls were receiving their weapons training elsewhere, and only now realised what a foolish assumption that had been.

Sigrid shook her head. "If the world of Men is to accept the Kingdom of Dale as valid, we have to show that we're civilised. That means that the women can't fight."

Tilda made a face that showed just what she thought of that.

"I know, but that's how Men think," said Sigrid. "Do the Elves let women fight?" she added wistfully.

"Nobody would dare tell an Elf woman that she could not fight." Tauriel shrugged. "But all the same, most Elf women prefer to be healers than fighters."

"But you can do both," said Tilda.

"That is, alas, a necessity in the Woodland Realm. The giant spiders do not care who they are fighting."

Tilda's eyes widened. "I don't care about lessons. Tell me more about the giant spiders."

Tauriel should have known better than to mention the spiders. This was not the first time by any stretch. "I will tell you about the giant spiders once our lessons are complete," she said, seeing an opportunity to get things back on track.

She had been initially dubious of her ability to teach Bard's children anything of use, but soon found out by talking to the girls that even her own isolated upbringing had included history and natural lore that was of interest to them. Bard had also asked that she also teach them Elvish, and she was thus muddling her way through teaching them Sindarin with the aid of songs and poetry.

Tilda was the more outspoken of the two girls, and Sigrid the more thoughtful. Sigrid was the more attentive student, although Tauriel suspected she considered herself too old for lessons. Bain was so quiet sometimes she forgot his presence.

"All right," said Tilda. "But you have to promise about the spiders. You forgot last time."

"I promise," said Tauriel, hiding a smile.

Once the girls were settled, Tauriel returned to trying to explain how to express, in Sindarin, that an event took place in the distant past. Her students looked unconvinced.

All in all, she would rather be talking about giant spiders.

--

It had almost become tradition that most nights one or both of the girls would come by Tauriel's rooms before the night bell rang. Tauriel needed little rest herself and could make up for it between dawn and the morning bell.

This evening it was just Sigrid who came. She offered observations on the evening's meal, which Tauriel had not attended, but her mind was clearly elsewhere. She seemed on the edge of saying something, but kept changing her mind at the last moment.

Tauriel eventually ventured an inquiry. "Is something bothering you?"

Sigrid looked embarrassed but relieved. "No, it's just..." She sighed. "There was a boy I thought I liked, back in Lake-town."

Tauriel instantly regretted her question. She knew so little of romance among Men, and her own recent romantic entanglements had been so full of disaster that she was ludicrously unqualified to even begin the discussion.

Taking her silence for encouragement, Sigrid continued. "Today I found out he's engaged to another girl."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Tauriel managed.

Sigrid laughed softly. "That's nice of you to say, but I am not. Not sorry, I mean. I feel relieved, almost. But he obviously expected me to take it badly, because he couldn't even tell me himself. He sent his friend to tell me."

"That is not very brave of him," said Tauriel.

Sigrid shrugged. "Perhaps I never liked him at all. But I feel badly for not feeling badly about it. Isn't that silly?"

"It is never comfortable being the recipient of feelings you do not return." That, at least, she had some experience with.

"It's not that. It's..." She sighed again. "Why are emotions so hard?"

"That is a sentiment I can definitely sympathise with," said Tauriel, only a little embarrassed once she realised she'd said it out loud.

It made Sigrid laugh. "You were supposed to be reassuring."

"In the eyes of my people I am not so much older than yourself," Tauriel pointed out. "I had a dear friend who considered himself in love with me, but I felt nothing of the same for him in return. I handled it badly and I hurt his feelings. But I do not know what else I could have done!"

Sigrid sighed again. "At least it is over. And I wouldn't want him to court me just because my father is King now. That would be awful."

"Would that happen?"

"I don't know. Probably."

Tauriel sat on the edge of her bed thinking for long moments after Sigrid left.

I think you know, he'd said. She envied him for being able to express his feelings with such confidence. Her own emotions were so tangled she couldn't hope to define them even in her own head.

--

Tauriel had volunteered for the Night Watch after the second time she was summoned by the Healer in the middle of the night to deal with a fell wound.

Birger, the Guard Captain, had accepted Tauriel's offer to assist with little interest until he saw her in action. After an incident in which two men had been injured, it had been decided that it would be Tauriel's duty alone to take out newcomers to the Watch.

Tonight's new recruit, who bore the name Varn, looked at her askance. He was dressed in well-worn leathers, heavy gloves and a cloak. He carried a pike like he had never used one before. "Lady Tauriel," he said, nodding at her doubtfully.

"I am no lady," she said automatically. "Tauriel is fine."

Small, fluffy flakes of snow were falling, decorating the ground with wispy white patches. The first snow of winter, although Tauriel could tell it wasn't yet cold enough for the snow to stick. "Aren't you cold in that?" he demanded, gesturing at her tunic and vest.

"No," she said. When he made as if to take off his cloak, she sighed. "Please do not remove your coat, sir. It is cold."

Those who had not seen her fight in the Battle – and even a few who had – seemed to consider her existence impossible. She didn't let it bother her unless it put their lives in danger.

She led him down the stairs from the walls of the city and out onto the rocky hillside.

"I thought we were guarding the city?" he asked. To his credit, he sounded as if he were more confused than challenging her authority.

"We rotate," she explained. "Some stay on the walls, some patrol the city surroundings. It is best to take care of the creatures before they breach the walls."

He stopped in his tracks. "I know we're discouraged from leaving the city walls after dark, but I thought it was to protect us from goblins."

"Goblins do sometimes venture out here, but there are other creatures that prefer to hunt under cover of darkness. They are drawn to the evil that still clings to the dragon's gold, and to the dwellings of mortals." She held up a hand. "Hush."

Varn froze in place.

She drew her bow and peered into the darkness to a hillock where she'd seen movement. A head with long, thin ears popped up a second time, and she shot without hesitation. The creature screamed as her shot hit its mark.

"That was a hare," said Varn, sounding shaken.

"Perhaps," said Tauriel. "It was a sentry. There will be others." She gestured for him to follow her.

Tauriel killed two more before they reached the first corpse. She prodded at it with her toe and uncovered sharp claws on its front feet. "The claws are venomous," she said, retrieving her arrow and using it to draw back the creature's lips and show off the sharp teeth. "Do not eat it, the flesh is poisonous."

Varn recoiled in horror. "That is the stuff of nightmares."

"Evil begets evil and makes evil of all it touches," said Tauriel. She picked up the corpse with her gloved hand and dropped it into her sack. "Help me find the others."

It wasn't difficult to spot the other corpses in the snow, which wasn't falling quickly enough to do more than cling to her hair. The bodies were like black shadows in the moonlight.

Varn gathered the courage to pick up one of the corpses and add it to Tauriel's sack.

"Careful!" she yelled, as she saw another head pop up from the ground.

Varn didn't hesitate before plunging his pike into the creature's head, right between the eyes. So perhaps he was not so inexperienced as she feared.

"That was a clean kill," she said, but he only grunted in response to the compliment. She sighed to herself.

"Can we skin them?" Varn held the corpse at arm's length until Tauriel brought him the sack to dispose of it.

"I've heard the other men talk of using the pelt," said Tauriel. She had little use for furs, but she knew they were essential for the cold winters here. "I'm sure one of the others will be able to help."

Varn nodded. "Is every night like this?" His expression said that he thought the answer had to be 'no'.

"Not every night," she admitted. "And we probably won't find anything else tonight. The hares will have frightened everything else from their territory."

"Are you here every night?"

"Most nights. I have some knowledge of these creatures."

He just shook his head.

Tauriel returned to her room as dawn was creeping over the horizon. She didn't think Varn would ever truly accept her, but for now he was willing to trust her experience, which was enough to keep him alive.

--

II

The people of Dale were preparing to celebrate Midwinter with a feast that lasted from sundown until dawn the next day. It was therefore natural that Estrella set Tauriel to making as many pots of stomach medicine and pain relievers as she could in the days prior.

By the day before Midwinter's Eve, the collection of pots and bottles was becoming dangerously tall. "Will we really need so many?" asked Tauriel. She had spent the last Midwinter away from the city, walking beneath the stars. She had not returned to the city for several days.

"Oh, yes. I don't even make them come to me for them," said Estrella. "I just pile them by the door."

Tauriel shook her head in wonder. Even if an Elf were to drink until they passed out – not an uncommon occurrence in the Halls of the Elvenking – they wouldn't need tonics in this quantity to recover from it.

The bell by the door rang and Tilda and Sigrid entered. "Tauriel!" called Tilda. "You'll never believe what happened!"

"Will I not?" said Tauriel.

Tilda scrambled up the stairs to Tauriel's workbench, with Sigrid following at a more sedate pace.

"If you're in the work room you're helping," called Estrella.

Tauriel obediently set Sigrid to slicing herbs and Tilda to mixing the pots. "What is it that I will not believe?" she prompted, once both girls were settled.

"Da had a visitor today," said Sigrid. "It was a raven from the Lonely Mountain."

Tauriel raised her eyebrows. "How remarkable."

"The raven was bearing a message. The King Under the Mountain wishes to open negotiations with the Kingdom Dale and will be sending a diplomatic party next week."

Tauriel smiled. "That is wonderful news."

"I wonder if they'll send any of our Dwarves," said Tilda. "I hope they send the funny one with the hat. Or the blond one. He had nice hair."

"We don't even know if they survived the battle," said Sigrid. She stopped chopping herbs and stared at her hands.

Tilda fell silent. Tauriel could see her gazing unseeing into the pot, lip quivering.

Tauriel took Tilda's hand and slowed her stirring. "It is good that they are opening negotiations," she agreed. "And I too would like to meet our former companions again."

Sigrid resumed her chopping, mumbling an apology in her sister's direction.

"Does your father know you're here, girls?" asked Estrella suddenly.

"He's locked away in his chambers, talking to his advisors," said Sigrid, but she looked guilty.

"We wanted to share the news," said Tilda. She pouted at Tauriel. "Because you liked the Dwarves too."

"And much appreciated it is, I'm sure," said Estrella. "But your father will worry if he finds you gone."

"I'll go back with you," offered Tauriel. "We can start our lessons a little early."

"No, but thank you for the offer," said Sigrid. "Come on, Tilda."

Estrella shook her head after the girls had gone. "You know, when I was a girl we used to sneak into the forest and look for the fair folk. Never once saw you, of course. Every little girl dreamt of it though – that the Elves would find you and turn you into a princess." She laughed. "Course, that's what happened to Sigrid here and she doesn't seem happy with it."

Tauriel frowned. "The Elves didn't make her a princess."

Estrella clucked her tongue. "Your king made the crowning official-like, which is close enough in my books."

"He's not my king," said Tauriel. "Not anymore."

Estrella fixed her with a hard look. "As you will have it, lass. But I'm glad those girls have somebody to talk to. Bard's household is too sombre by far."

"I'm trying to be a good teacher and friend," said Tauriel. "Although I have more experience in fighting than I do befriending. And I have never been a teacher before."

Estrella watched her from under lowered brows. "You seem to be doing fine to me. Stop worrying, lass. And stir that pot before it boils."

The pot was nowhere near boiling, but Tauriel took the hint and turned her attention back to the tonic.

--

Midwinter came and went, as did all of their tonics. Tauriel quietly excused herself from the celebrations some time after midnight and walked the walls of the city. Clouds made dark splotches on the night sky, but there were patches of stars here and there. She breathed the cool night air and tried not to think about what her people might be doing in their halls.

The Dwarf party arrived two days later, while Tauriel was once again attempting to make sense of Sindarin grammar for the benefit of three unenthusiastic pupils.

A servant arrived at the door and informed them that they should dress in formal clothes and meet their father in the greeting hall as soon as possible.

"Do we go as soon as we're ready or wait until we're all ready and go together?" asked Sigrid, worrying at her lip with her front teeth.

"Go all together," Tauriel advised. She gave Sigrid an encouraging smile.

Tauriel returned to her own rooms. She had not expected to be invited to the greeting hall, and was not offended. She was surprised when a servant arrived to tell her she was invited to eat in the formal dining hall that evening.

Sigrid had helped Tauriel modify some gowns to fit her better, as well as helping her restyle them to be more to Tauriel's taste. The result was simple but elegant.

She combed and rebraided her hair, and dressed in the dark green and gold gown. She had no jewellery bar the rune-stone, knotted into a leather strap and hung from her neck. This she kept under her clothes.

Tauriel studied her reflection in the glass, then quirked a smile at it. No amount of fussing would make her reception any less fraught with potential political disaster.

She left her room and mounted the staircase to the ground floor. She could make out the distant bustle of servants in the dining hall and sensed that she was early. When she concentrated, she could hear Tilda and Sigrid bickering about Tilda's hair. She bit back a smile and turned back to the staircase.

A door nearby opened and she turned back instinctively.

The newcomer looked up at her movement and froze.

Tauriel put her hand to her chest, where the rune-stone lay against her skin. He looked – not at all the same, but well. His hair was combed and braided, the hints of Dwarf beard trimmed into a neat, even row.

Their eyes met and they stood in shocked silence for several moments.

"I thought you were working as the Healer," Kíli blurted out.

"In the mornings I do," she explained, confused. "In the afternoons I am usually in the King's Halls. I teach the Prince and Princesses."

He stared at her, eyes wild. "I had a speech," he moaned. "I was going to be so smooth and poetic."

Tauriel let her hand drop back to her side, then wondered what she should do with it instead. Should she clasp her hands? Hold them at her sides? "I am pleased to see you again," she offered.

His cheeks were turning bright red.

One of the doors further down the hall opened and a blond head popped out. "Kíli? Are you talking to m—" He stopped.

"Fíli, you remember Tauriel," Kíli babbled. "She saved my life. In Lake-town."

Fíli's expression was one of pure, impatient disbelief. "I remember. What brings you to the King's Halls?"

"I live here," she said. She turned back to Kíli. "Will you be at dinner?"

"Yes! Yes, so I'll see you there?"

"You will," Tauriel promised. She took her leave of them both and made her way back up the stairs as quickly as possible without giving the appearance of running. Her heart felt like it was beating too fast.

She knocked on Sigrid's door and was welcomed into the room by a relieved Sigrid.

"Tauriel!" said Tilda. "The Dwarves arrived! The hat one didn't come but the blond one and the dark one you helped heal came. And the kind one with the white hair who ran away before the dragon came. And two more I don't know."

Sigrid and Tauriel exchanged amused glances.

"They were all so polite," Tilda continued. "They bowed and said 'at your service'. Even the princes!"

"It's important for royalty to be polite," said Sigrid.

"I'm very polite," protested Tilda.

"Your hair looks nice," interrupted Tauriel. "Did Sigrid do it?"

"I wanted braids like yours," said Tilda. "But my hair isn't long enough. Do you think I could have hair like yours someday?"

"If you're careful with it and never, ever cut it," said Tauriel.

"You've never cut your hair?" said Tilda, eyes wide.

"I'm a little older than you are," pointed out Tauriel. "I've had longer to let it grow."

The bell rang through to the Halls to summon them to dinner. Sigrid finished her own hair and smoothed down her dress. "Do I look acceptable?"

"You both look lovely," Tauriel assured them. The girls had gowns of fine fabric and intricate embroidery. Beside them Tauriel felt quite plain – which she was content with.

Tauriel sat with the bulk of the dinner guests, largely the King's advisors and key merchants of the city, along with the Captain of the Guard. From experience she knew Birger was the only one likely to talk to her in the course of the meal. The others didn't know how to classify her and thus had no idea how to react to her.

A herald cleared his throat by the large double-doors that marked the formal entrance to the hall, then flushed as all eyes turned to him. "I present the Chief Advisor to the King Under the Mountain, Balin; the representative of Dáin, Lord of the Iron Hills; the Sister-Sons of the King Under the Mountain, Fíli and Kíli of Erebor; and Ori, Chief Scribe to the King Under the Mountain."

That was unexpected. Of course she'd known that Thorin Oakenshield had been among the Dwarves of the Company, but that two others of them had been his blood relatives... That he would have left them behind in Lake-town while he confronted the dragon!

The Dwarves entered and took their place in single file. Kíli's eyes were fixed on his brother's shoulders until he had been seated at the King's table. His gaze immediately began searching the room until it alighted on Tauriel and he broke into a delighted smile.

Tauriel glanced back down at the table, hoping she wasn't blushing.

"Wonder if we'll be able to get some new weapons from that lot," said Birger, nodding at the King's table. "Some good Dwarf steel would be a darn sight better than what we've got."

"There is much we could stand to gain from the Dwarves," Tauriel agreed. "I hope this can be the start of a formal alliance. The north needs to stand united."

Birger snorted. "That I will believe when I see the papers signed. You're right, of course, but no king in history ever made the sensible choice when his pride was at stake."

"I fear this time it will be necessary," Tauriel told Birger.

She glanced back at the King's table. Sigrid seemed to be laughing at something Kíli had said, and Tauriel quickly looked away.

--

"I think the Dwarf prince has a crush on you," said Tilda, in Tauriel's room that evening. "He kept looking at you all the way through dinner."

"Which Dwarf prince?" asked Tauriel.

"You know. The one you saved."

"Oh, that Dwarf prince," said Tauriel.

"You're making fun of me," accused Tilda. Sigrid giggled.

"Perhaps I am," Tauriel admitted. "But I do not see that his behaviour at dinner means he has romantic intentions towards me." From his reaction to her earlier, she did not think his feelings had changed from that moment at the lake-shore. But it was far too early to speak of it to outsiders.

"If you don't want him I'll marry him instead," said Tilda. "He has pretty hair and a nice smile."

Sigrid sighed. "Tilda, you can't marry people just because you want them!"

"Why not?" demanded Tilda.

"Because marriage is either mutual or political. Either you both get a choice or neither of you get a choice."

Tauriel frowned. "You marry for political reasons?"

Sigrid looked back at Tauriel. "It's common for couples to marry in order to bring together families, whether they're merchants or nobles. Do Elves not do that?"

Tauriel shook her head. "It would be almost inconceivable to marry for anything other than mutual interest. Marriages for other reasons… end badly."

"I suppose Men are more pragmatic about it," said Sigrid. "We don't have the luxury of decades – or centuries – to make our choices."

Tauriel began to protest that even Elves married within their first century of life, when she realised that most Men would be dead and gone in the time it took for an Elf to grow up and propose marriage.

Mortal lives were so short, it was incomprehensible to spend them in a marriage with no love. That mortals would sacrifice their own happiness for the good of their family's future felt a perversion of destiny.

"I do not understand it," she confessed. "But if that is the way it is, I will try to accept it. It is not my place to criticise the ways of your people."

"I don't like it," said Sigrid. "But that's the way it is."

--

Tauriel knocked on the door to Kíli's room the next morning, before she was due to be at Estrella's. The rune-stone was clutched in her hand, warm now with the heat of her body.

Kíli answered the door, looking less polished than he had the night before. He hadn't rebraided his hair since sleeping, and was dressed simply in tunic and breeches.

"Tauriel," he said. He glanced over his shoulder to his brother's room. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

"The rooftop," she said. She led him up the spiral staircase to where the balcony overlooked the city.

It wasn't currently snowing, but the clouds above them were heavy with it. The breeze was blowing lightly over the parapet, and she saw him shiver. "I'm sorry," she said. She was always forgetting about mortals and the cold. "Would you like to fetch a coat?"

"I know a way we could keep warm," said Kíli, winking. She looked at him expectantly, but he just waved a dismissive hand. "Don't mind me. I'll be fine." He shifted his weight off his knee and leant against the stone wall.

"Does your knee still bother you?" she asked.

He waved the question off. "It only bothers me in the cold, and then not often."

"I will give you something to rub on it when it bothers you," she promised.

He looked up at her in wonder, like he couldn't believe she was standing in front of him. His hands twitched at his side.

"I have something to return to you," she continued. She held out the rune-stone in the palm of her hand.

His cheeks coloured the tiniest bit. "You kept it?"

It had never occurred to her not to. She nodded. "And both of us survived the Battle. Although I had no way to know that," she added, frowning at him. "After I went to such efforts to save your life, it would have been polite to let me know they had not been wasted."

"If I had known where you were, my lady, do not doubt that I would have," he said, glancing away. "I thought you would have returned to your home."

"That was not a possibility," she said. Kíli looked like he wanted to say something about that, so she changed the subject. "Last night, they announced you as the sister-sons of the King Under the Mountain. I didn't know your uncle was the one called Thorin Oakenshield."

"We didn't exactly have the chance for formal introductions," he said, grinning at her. "But it's Fíli who is the heir. I'm just his annoying younger brother."

She looked at him speculatively. "Merely the brother to the heir to the entire Kingdom of Erebor, the greatest Dwarven stronghold in Middle-Earth. Should I be addressing you as Your Highness, as they would here in the Kingdom of Dale?"

He shrugged. "When we were in exile, birth rank didn't mean anything, and I don't see why it should change now," said Kíli. He closed her hand over the stone. "Keep it. It was a gift and I won't take it back. Besides, if I gave it back to my mother now she would want to know where it had been."

"You have reunited with your mother?"

"She's the reason we're here now. You should have heard the speech she gave Thorin! She was in full form. Mother was always better at politics than him."

"I cannot entirely blame the King Under the Mountain for being hesitant to trust others, after his treatment at both the hands of Elves and Men."

"Mother says that politics is about putting the nation above personal pride," said Kíli, unknowingly echoing Birger.

Tauriel spared a brief moment to wish that the King of the Woodland Realm had a sister who would share this wisdom. But it was more than pride that kept Thranduil in isolation. His fear and despair played equal part in it.

"Is it my fault you are exiled?" asked Kíli suddenly.

"That is a complicated question," said Tauriel.

"That sounds like a yes," he said, glancing away with a frown.

"No," she said. "It is true that it was my decision to disregard my king's orders and follow you and your party to Lake-town that led to my initial banishment. But its continuation can only be attributed to my drawing a weapon on my king as he fled the battlefield."

His mouth dropped open. "You did that?"

"We are not so secure here that we can afford to abandon our neighbours in time of need. He is blind if he cannot see that!" She realised with some dismay that she was still speaking as one of the Woodland Realm.

Kíli shivered again in the cold. "I must go," said Tauriel. "The Healer will be waiting for me."

"I'll see you again though, right?" he asked.

She cocked her head. "My rooms are in the King's Halls," she said. "Our paths will certainly cross, as often as we wish it."

Tauriel and Kili at the lookout, by thethreehunters
Art post on AO3

Chapter 2

PART TWO

III

Tauriel hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, then turned resolutely out and into the city. It was snowing again, and most of the city had elected to stay indoors. Estrella put her to work tidying and labelling their supplies in the coldroom at the bottom of the building.

Tauriel didn't look up when she heard the bell ring, but she did when the new arrival said her name.

"Is Tauriel here?" asked Kíli. "I was hoping to speak with her."

"Were you now?" asked Estrella. Tauriel recognised her tone as being the one more commonly addressed to truant children. "And why would that be?"

"I... well... I was hoping she could give me a tour of the city? And she promised me some salve for my knee!" he added quickly.

Tauriel walked up the stairs and closed the door behind her. Estrella glanced at her and raised her eyebrows.

"I would be happy to, if Estrella can spare me," said Tauriel. "We can fetch the salve when we return."

Estrella waved her hand. "If you want to ferry Dwarves around the city, you are welcome to."

It was still snowing outside. Specks of white immediately dotted Kíli's fine dark hair, and he huffed at it.

"It is not an optimal day for a city tour," Tauriel pointed out.

"I know," said Kíli. "But we aren't meeting with King Bard for another two hours and I was bored in the King's Halls." He tossed his head so that the snow fell off. "How do you stay so perfect all the time?"

She dismissed the question as rhetorical. "Come," she said, leading him through the door to the North Tavern. This early it was empty of guests, with only the barkeep at work dusting and cleaning.

"Bit early for drinking, isn't it, Tauriel?" he asked. Hemut volunteered on the Night Watch several times a week.

"If you could warm some cider, I think my guest would appreciate it," she said.

"I'm fine," Kíli protested.

The barkeep glanced at Tauriel to confirm that she still wanted the drinks, then placed a pot on the stove.

"Tell me," she said to Kíli. "Have you been keeping in practice with your bow?"

He flushed. "There has been little call for it in the Lonely Mountain. I brought it with me, but... it has been many months since I even strung it."

"Well, that is no good at all." She paused. "Unless Dwarf princes are not expected to fight either?"

"I don't think Thorin will mind if I do."

She watched him for a moment. "And your mother?"

"She won't mind what I do as long as I return safely. Is there a practice range here?"

"No," said Tauriel. "That is, yes, there is a practice range, but that wasn't why I asked. I thought perhaps you would like to assist with the Night Watch tonight."

"The Night Watch? Will you be there? Will they mind?"

"I'm the Assistant Captain," Tauriel said. "They will not mind."

"Then I would be honoured," said Kíli. "That is, assuming Balin approves it." He gave her a rueful smile.

The barkeep brought over mugs of steaming hot cider, and Kíli wrapped his hands around it. He blew steam off the top and sipped from it carefully. With the over-large mug and in a chair meant for Men, he looked uncommonly young.

"How old are you?" she asked.

He flushed. "I don't want to answer that."

"Why not?"

"Because then you'll treat me like a kid."

She laughed. "I will not, I promise. But, you are young for your people, yes?"

He nodded, eyes fixed on his mug.

"In the eyes of my people I am still young enough for any defiance to be seen as youthful folly," she said. His gaze snapped back up to meet hers. "But to the people of Dale I am ancient and wise. I am none of that! I am a guard captain who had never left her home until a year ago and never knew anybody she didn't grow up with."

"I have never had that problem," said Kíli, and she was startled into laughter.

She managed to stifle it as Kíli began to look offended. "I am sorry. I am certain that the same problem in reverse must be equally frustrating."

"Fíli and I have always been the silly ones. The pranksters, the ones who make a joke out of everything. Even when I try to be serious I find it difficult to get respect because that is all they remember of me."

"I see," she said. "That is difficult."

"I thought being part of Thorin's Company would help, but then there were the ponies and I went and got myself injured and..." He shrugged. "Let's say it didn't go the way I hoped."

"I am sorry," she said. "And I'm sorry for the way we treated you."

He didn't seem interested in that apology right now. "Fíli and I weren't even supposed to be part of these talks. We had to ask. Nobody wanted to leave the fate of Erebor in our hands. Balin's doing all the talking, anyway. We're just observers."

"Are they going well? I haven't heard anything, good or bad."

"Balin says it's still too early to tell," said Kíli. "Everybody is too busy being polite to talk about any real issues yet."

She smiled. "You are impatient."

"So my mother tells me," he agreed.

Tauriel winced. "Then I will refrain from adding to the chorus," she said, and he smiled gratefully at her.

Tauriel and Kili in Dale, by thethreehunters
Art post on AO3

--

Tilda and Sigrid knocked on her door while Tauriel was combing out her hair that evening. Tilda looked at her in awe.

"May I braid your hair?" asked Tilda.

"If you like," said Tauriel, surrendering the comb with ease. Tilda had gentle hands as she continued to comb through the creases of previous braids.

"I wanted to join the negotiations today," said Sigrid. "But Da said he'd prefer me to make copies of the notes from yesterday's, if I wanted to be involved."

Tauriel made an encouraging noise.

Sigrid flopped onto the bed next to her sister. "He has this idea that if other kingdoms see him letting women get involved in politics, they'll lose respect for us. I know it's not because he doesn't believe I can do it. I took care of everything while he was gone back in Lake-town. Running a household isn't so different to running a kingdom."

"I have never done either," Tauriel admitted. "But I am surprised that this would be a concern. Do other kingdoms of Men discourage women from positions of power?"

"So we have always believed," she said. "We're so isolated we haven't had any contact from Gondor and Rohan in decades. Almost all our trade is with the east, and they don't even have real kingdoms out there."

"It seems to me that the distinction between what is a kingdom and not is rather arbitrary," Tauriel observed.

"It's symbolic," explained Sigrid. "It's a way to reclaim our identity and rebuild our people now that we are out from under the shadow of the dragon. Forming the Kingdom of Dale gives us something to rally around."

Tauriel nodded thoughtfully. Her own people considered their leader a King because that was the title he claimed. She knew the Elves of Lothlorien did not regard their Lady Galadriel or Lord Celeborn as royalty.

"I don't mind being a princess," announced Tilda. "It's fun when people bow to you."

Sigrid gave her sister a long-suffering look. "You don't have to disagree with me just to be contrary."

"I'm not," Tilda declared.

"Then tomorrow night you should stay in your room like a good little princess," said Sigrid.

Tauriel was unable to hold back her laughter any longer and the girls stopped their bickering. Sigrid turned pink. "You are both welcome here at any time," she assured them. "But I think it is time you both slept."

--

Tauriel was to meet Kíli outside his rooms after the night bell rang.

He appeared shortly after her arrival. He was dressed in hunting leathers with a thick cloak pulled tightly around his neck.

"Your hair is different," he said, surprised.

"Oh," said Tauriel, twirling to show it off. "Tilda did it for me. Does it look nice? I didn't get the chance to inspect it."

"You let the Princess braid your hair?" He sounded baffled.

"She wanted to do it, and I have no great attachment to braiding my own hair," explained Tauriel. "There was no harm in it."

Kíli shook his head, as if to clear it. "No, and it is good work," he agreed. "I was simply surprised."

"Still, I think I will return to my usual style tomorrow," said Tauriel. "Are you ready to go?"

Tauriel had not become Assistant Captain of the Night Watch by appointment. She had volunteered, not long after her arrival, and found herself in the position through sheer force of experience. None of the Men in the Watch had even half her knowledge of hunting the strange beasts that haunted Mirkwood and the banks of the river.

Birger cleared his throat to gain the attention of the men. "Destin, you said you chased a bone mimic last night?"

"We chased the damned thing for an hour," said Destin. "Couldn't find the body."

"Kíli and I will take care of it," Tauriel said. Destin looked relieved, but she could see some scepticism on the faces of the other men. "Any luck on that gobkrill nest?"

There was a chorus of negative answers.

"Look for large bushes of reeds and disturbed earth by the river bank," she told them. "They like privacy."

"Of course," muttered one of the men. "Wouldn't want to have to use those teeth on anything. They're just for show."

"We all set?" asked Birger. "Then get moving."

Tauriel led Kíli down the stairs and into the wild.

"What's a bone mimic?" he asked.

"One of the Necromancer's creations, we think. I do not know enough of the ways of evil to say. It is difficult to catch."

She had to slow her pace a bit to allow him to keep up. Ahead, they disturbed a herd of mirage-moles and Tauriel put out her arm to keep Kíli from walking any closer. She drew her bow and took out the largest with a single, precise shot. "Aim for the largest first," she told him, fitting another arrow. "The smaller ones are likely to be illusionary."

Kíli's first shot went wide, but the second was a perfect shot. His third took out the rest of the moles in one blink of the eye.

Tauriel led him over to where the creatures had fallen and began collecting corpses. At his slightly glazed look, she took pity and explained. "Strange things are drawn to where a Necromancer lies," she said. "With the Necromancer gone from Dol Guldur, they're looking for other places to feed."

Kíli looked at her bag of corpses and shuddered.

They walked in silence for a while. The cold made the ground crunch beneath Kíli's feet, and she treasured this reminder of his presence.

Nearby, Tauriel heard the hoot of an owl. She held a finger to her lips.

"That's a Great Owl," whispered Kíli. "They usually live in dense forests. I've never heard one in the hills before."

"Bone mimic," she said under her breath. "Don't let it hear your voice and stick by me."

He made a gesture and glanced at her expectantly. When he received no response, he shrugged and nodded at her, miming locking his lips closed with a key.

She crept in the direction of the owl noise, sorting through the other noises of the night in case the creature had decided to mimic something else. There were insects in the far distance, the wind rustling through the undergrowth, a stream bubbling away somewhere.

"Tauriel," Kíli hissed. He pointed at a skeletal form that had appeared in some low brush.

The bone mimic disappeared and Kíli's cry was picked up and repeated from all directions. Kíli shut his mouth again, shaken.

She pulled him closer and bent down to murmur into his ear. "We have to find the body. The skeleton can't be hurt – but they can break your bones, so don't get close."

Tauriel couldn't blame the men for being unable to find the bone mimic's body. Without Elf hearing it would be nigh impossible. She waited for the bone mimic to call again so she could trace the echo.

The bone mimic cried out her name in Kíli's voice again, and she twitched in instinctive response. She almost had it. Just once more—

Kíli grabbed her arm and pulled her back as the bone mimic appeared at her feet.

"Run," she told him, grabbing his hand and doing so. Behind her, she heard the bone mimic take up the cry.

Bone mimics were slow-moving. They could make themselves invisible, not teleport, but since the bone form could not be harmed running was always the best option.

"I think I know where the body is," she whispered, once they were a safe distance. "The bones won't go near it."

"You mean to say its body is somewhere elsewhere? With no bones in it?"

"If we salt and burn the body, the bones will disintegrate," said Tauriel. "It can't travel too far from its flesh, so it must be here somewhere." Kíli was still goggling at her. "Be quiet and follow my lead. If it hears your voice, it will come to you."

She led him to where she had heard the echo. The ground was recently disturbed, and it only took scraping off the topsoil to uncover the corpse of a creature that might once have been a squirrel. From her pouch she drew a bag of salt and a tinderbox. "Light that," she whispered. She sprinkled salt on the body and lit a firestarter with the flame Kíli produced.

In the distance, she heard a very mortal scream. The body's mouth twitched, then was still.

"Is it dead?" Kíli asked in a whisper, staring at the body.

"Yes," she said, in her normal voice. "You did well."

He shuddered. "Where did it come from?"

"Sometimes it happens when the Necromancer's creatures die. That's why we always collect the bodies and burn them."

"I had no idea things like this existed," he said. He shifted his weight to his other knee and grimaced.

"If you had spent longer in the Mirkwood, you might have encountered some," she said. "Perhaps it is a mercy you only encountered the spiders."

He quirked a smile at her. "Well, it introduced me to you. I'll take spiders any day if I can be rescued by beautiful Elf ladies."

Tauriel suspected she was blushing.

After a moment, he coughed and shuffled his feet. "Do Elves not use sign language?" he asked.

"Not for hunting," she said.

"I'll teach you some," he promised. He repeated the gesture he'd made earlier. "This means that I've heard what you said."

She repeated the gesture until he was satisfied.

"Very good. This one means you should follow my lead."

By the time they returned to the city walls, dawn was peeking over the horizon and Tauriel had learned a good twenty signs to Kíli's satisfaction.

"But I hope we won't have to use them to hunt another bone mimic," said Kíli.

"If we are careful to dispose of the corpses properly, we shouldn't need to," said Tauriel. "I'll remind Birger to tell the men."

"Why can't you tell them?" he asked.

"I've found they're more likely to listen if it comes from the Captain." At Kíli's baffled look, she laughed. "The ways of Men are strange. Sometimes, I am a wise and knowledgeable immortal. Others see me as a woman first, and dismiss me out of turn."

"The women of my people would never stand for being treated like that," said Kíli.

"I am a stranger here still," said Tauriel. "It is not my place."

--

IV

In the summer, the marketplace was bustling with stalls every weekend. Vendors travelled from as far away as Dorwinion, their goods covering everything from fresh fruit to wine, cloth and jewellery and toys, and anything else one could pack into a barge and bring down the river. In winter the market dwindled to monthly festivals. They were almost more crowded for that, and market day in winter was something Tauriel preferred to avoid.

But this market day, Estrella had asked her to collect an order from Hilda Bianca, so she had joined the throngs crowding the stalls.

Tauriel had some money of her own – a stipend from Bard, along with what Estrella paid her for her work – and was happy to indulge in a few pastries from the vendors at the entrance to the marketplace. Her breath was steaming in the cold air. The other patrons were all bundled up in coats and gloves, and she felt conspicuous in her light overdress.

She bought a mug of steaming spiced cider and drank it slowly. The cider was of poor quality but the spices were strong.

She was surprised by a greeting in Elvish from the Dorwinion wine vendor. "Why, if it isn't the lovely Captain Tauriel, if my eyes don't deceive me! Here, have a glass on me." She recognised him after a moment, peering under his hood until the face resolved itself into a middle-aged man with dark eyes. She didn't recall his name.

Her ears burning, Tauriel declined the wine. But it would be rude to just leave and she hesitated at the edge of the stall.

"What brings you to Dale?" asked the vendor, pouring a glass for a customer and winking at her. "Interested in sampling some of our rarer wares before your king buys them all up?"

"I live here," said Tauriel. "I'm... I work with the Healer here."

"The Healer?" said the wine vendor. He poured another glass and handed it to the waiting customer.

Tauriel quickly declared her intention to buy some wine for the Healer and accepted the first recommendation he gave.

She hurried away as soon as the vendor was distracted by another customer. She found Hilda Bianca on the other side of the marketplace. In summer the herb seller's stall would be covered in greenery and flowers, but now it was hung with dried bundles of aromatics. Tauriel often collected edible plants to sell on to Hilda Bianca while she was gathering.

"Ah, Tauriel, you'll be here for Estrella's order," said Hilda Bianca. She produced a package from under the table, securely wrapped in oilskin and string. "It's all paid for."

"Thank you," said Tauriel. She tucked the package under her arm. "How is business?"

Hilda Bianca muttered something non-committal. Tauriel promised to pass her greetings on to Bard's children and took her leave.

As she approached the exit, she saw a short blond head at the leatherworker's. The vendor's table was high, but not so high that one couldn't see a Dwarf over it. The vendor was carefully avoiding even glancing in the Dwarf's direction.

Tauriel pushed through the crowd to get the vendor's attention. He might have ignored her too, if he hadn't recognised her. "You have a customer," said Tauriel pointedly. "And I suggest you pay closer attention to your guests in future if you do not wish to lose future trade with the Kingdom of Erebor."

She began to move off as soon as the vendor unhooked the belt Fíli was interested in from his displays.

"Wait," called Fíli. He paid for his items and caught up with her. "Thank you."

"No thanks are necessary," said Tauriel. It would be the greatest irony to accept thanks for such an act after her own part in imprisoning Thorin Oakenshield's party. "I am glad you were able to purchase the belt you wanted."

"It's a gift. My mother loves that colour," Fíli explained.

"Then I am indeed pleased I could help," said Tauriel. "Your brother speaks of your mother with great pride. She seems a great lady."

Fíli gave her a puzzled look, but let whatever he was thinking pass without comment. "My brother speaks highly of you," he said instead.

"Your brother is very kind," Tauriel demurred.

They had reached the edge of the marketplace. "I must return to the Healer's," said Tauriel. "I hope the rest of your day brings you less frustration."

"Tauriel," Fíli began.

She turned and raised an eyebrow.

"It is nothing," said Fíli. "I bid you good day."

--

A few days later, Kíli found her after she'd finished her lessons with Bard's children. "The negotiations are over," he said. "I think we've reached an agreement that's amicable for both parties," he added, then threw in a wink to soften the formal words.

"I am glad to hear it," she said. "Do you feel it was valuable experience for you?"

"Balin said we both did 'admirably'," said Kíli, pausing slightly around the last word to show his amusement.

"So you will be returning to Erebor?" she asked, trying to keep her expression neutral.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," he laughed. "Balin has requested that Fíli and I stay in Dale to see the agreements followed. From the Dwarves' perspective, I mean. We're to take on the role of managing the Stoneworkers' Guild and communicating our needs to the Dale guilds and all that."

"You must be happy to have that responsibility," she said.

"Mm," he said, clasping his hands behind the back of his head and shrugged. "Be careful what you wish for, isn't that what they say?"

"You will do well," she said. "I am certain of it."

"At least I'll have Fíli," he said. "I'd hate to be the only Dwa— I'm so sorry."

It took her a moment to catch his meaning. "You do not need to apologise. I will not pretend it is easy to be the only one of my race here, but I am not sensitive about it."

"I don't want to make you unhappy," he muttered.

"You don't," she said. "And I am glad you are staying."

He smiled at her, bright as the sun breaking through the canopy, and she was helpless to resist returning that smile.

--

Kíli didn't volunteer on the Night Watch as often as Tauriel, but he became a familiar face among them. He was a quick study, learning to recognise the signs of danger faster than any of Tauriel's other students, and soon showed himself to be a talented archer. For his part, he continued to teach her the Dwarves' sign language and expressed delight at her progress.

On a clear, moonless night ripe for blade-mole attacks, Varn stumbled up behind them, making enough noise to ensure they would not be taking out any nests that night.

"Lady Tauriel, it's Colun," he panted. "He's been gashed."

"Where was it?" she asked, letting the title slide this time. "Can you describe it?"

"The dead tree by the wide river bend," said Varn, resting his hands on his knees and gasping for breath. "Orin is with him."

Tauriel leapt off in that direction. It wasn't long before she spotted Colun and Orin. Colun was very pale, blood already staining the bandages his companions had wrapped around his injured leg.

"It got us from behind," said Orin. "We never saw it coming."

"I will take him," she said, and Orin helped her sling Colun over her shoulder.

She couldn't move as fast carrying another person, and Orin was able to keep up. They were joined halfway back to the city by Varn and Kíli.

Tauriel didn't need to wake Estrella to open the Healer's shop. She worked quickly, setting the Watchman's concerned friends to work grinding dried herbs and oil to paste while she cleaned the wound. The blade-mole had left a nasty gash up the back of Colun's calf.

Kíli hissed under his breath and turned away. "What did that?"

"Blade-mole," said Tauriel. "They like to tunnel up behind and hamstring you." They were named for their front claws, which were sharp and curved like daggers.

Colun woke and moaned, twitching under her hands. She murmured reassuring words in Elvish and he settled.

Tauriel rose and took the offerings of paste to form a poultice. "Make certain this stays in contact with the wound as long as possible," she said. "When it dries out completely, come find me or Estrella."

"Yes, la— Tauriel," said Colun.

"And do not think to impress anybody by how quickly you are healing by checking on the wound," she said, speaking from experience. "Leave the medicine in contact with the wound. There is powerful venom in those claws."

"I understand." He smiled, although it was a poor attempt. "Don't you worry, my mother was a Healer, she'd… she'd turn in her grave if she knew I was ignoring the Healer's instructions."

Tauriel smiled. "Your mother sounds like a sensible woman. Relax and sleep now." She brushed a hand across his forehead and he fell into deep dreams.

"Will he truly be all right?" asked Varn.

"If he takes care of himself, yes," said Tauriel. "I will stay with him. You both need your rest."

The two men departed, loss of adrenaline leaving them quiet and drawn. Tauriel made her way to the basin to wash her hands.

"Was I like that?" asked Kíli. "It looks different from the other side." He massaged his knee unconsciously.

Her recollection of that scene was punctuated by a single phrase, one she knew he'd never meant her to hear. Do you think she could have loved me?

It took some time to think of something else to say. "You were far more delirious," said Tauriel, after a moment. "And I hope young Colun will not immediately be drawn into a battle. These lands have seen enough war."

But she knew even as she spoke that mere hope would not be enough to prevent that.

--

V

Tilda and Sigrid tumbled into Estrella's workshop one morning, cheeks flushed and talking on top of each other.

"Tauriel, you won't believe what's happened now. Elves have arrived in Dale!"

"Elves?" said Tauriel. Tilda's head bobbed and down enthusiastically. "Then... you wish for me to stay here instead of taking your lessons this afternoon?"

Tilda wrinkled her nose. "No. We want you to come with us."

"If a delegation from the Woodland Realm has arrived it would be best if they didn't see me."

"But they're not from the Woodland Realm," said Tilda.

"They're from Rivendell," Sigrid interjected. "They say they bear messages from Lord Elrond and the Rangers of the North."

"From Rivendell," Tauriel repeated, amazed. "How remarkable."

"Yes, and Da sent us to fetch you as soon as possible."

"Technically he sent Sigrid," Tilda admitted. "I just followed."

Sigrid ruffled her sister's hair.

"Did you happen to catch the names of these guests?" asked Tauriel, continuing her work with the mortar and pestle.

Sigrid shook her head. "There are two, and they are so alike that they must be twins. They have dark hair and are very tall."

Tauriel dropped her pestle. "Then they must be the sons of Elrond, Lord of Rivendell. Elrohir and Elladan."

"Who is Lord Elrond?" asked Tilda. Sigrid winced.

"He is one of few remaining who remembers the Elder Days," she said. "And his sons are many times my age and the wiser for it." She fished the pestle out of her salve and wondered if it was irreparably ruined now.

"But you are already so old!" said Tilda.

Tauriel laughed. "So it must seem to you, and yet to these Elf Lords I am but a girl, barely older than Sigrid."

"They must be impossibly ancient then," said Tilda. "At least a thousand."

"Over two thousand," said Tauriel. "They were born in the first centuries of the Third Age."

Tilda frowned.

"We haven't reached that part of the histories yet," said Tauriel. She explained about Elrond and Elros and their parents, as quickly as she could.

"It's possible for Men and Elves to marry?" asked Tilda, her eyes wide.

Tauriel sighed. "Possible, yes, but it inevitably ends in tragedy." She elected not to dwell on that. "If the King requests it I must follow, but I do not know what I can offer to such company."

"I expect he wants you to tell him what you just told us," Sigrid pointed out.

"I have only legends and rumour," said Tauriel. "But he is welcome to all of it."

--

The sons of Elrond were not at all what Tauriel expected. When she entered the greeting hall, she was met with expressions of delight. Introductions were made, and Tauriel barely tripped over introducing herself as "Tauriel of Dale".

The two exchanged glances, but said nothing. She found herself seated with them at dinner.

It was undoubtedly rude to the other occupants of their table, but they spent the meal talking in Sindarin. It was a relief to speak her own language again, although the Imladris Elves' speech was strangely accented and on more than one occasion they had to stop each other and ask for clarification.

"We bear a message for you," said Elladan. "From one who is known to both of us."

Tauriel cocked her head in confusion. "Lord Thranduil?"

"From he we have only a request to determine your well-being, if we encountered you.

She frowned. "Did the Elvenking bid you to pass any messages on to the Kingdom of Dale?"

"No, he just requested news concerning you," said Elrohir.

"I am concerned that the Elvenking has made no effort to reopen trade with Dale or any attempt at diplomacy. I am afraid that the evil which has fled to the east is merely gathering his power, and that all three of the kingdoms in the North – the Elves, Dwarves and Men – need to be prepared to face whatever lies ahead."

"The banishment of Lady Galadriel is not so easily defeated," said Elladan. "That which would allow the Dark Lord to regain his strength remains lost."

"But yours is not the only voice I have heard with these concerns. Mithrandir bid us to pass three messages to the three kings, and your words are an echo of his."

Tauriel settled back in her seat. If Mithrandir shared her fear, there was little she could add.

From across the room, Kíli caught her attention. He signed, Assistance?

Puzzled, Tauriel signed back to say that she had everything under control.

He looked faintly disappointed and signed an acknowledgement. Fíli leaned over to ask a question and Kíli turned away again.

"But you have not yet guessed the identity of the owner of the message," teased Elladan, drawing her back to the table.

"I am afraid you have me at a loss," said Tauriel.

"Perhaps it would help were we to say that ere we departed for the east, we travelled with the Rangers of the North?"

"Legolas?" she asked. "He found the Rangers?"

They beamed at her. "And when we mentioned our destination, he bid us to pass on this letter." Elladan produced it with a flourish.

The letter crinkled in her hands, the wax seal smooth and uncracked. She tucked it away in her skirts and thanked them.

"We would be happy to take a return letter, if you wish," said Elrohir.

"Thank you," she said again.

"But I would like to hear more of this battle against the orc army," said Elladan. "There were two separate armies?"

"Yes, one from Dol Guldur and one from Gundabad." She explained what she knew of the army of Azog the Defiler and his allies. "Most were either killed or fled after the Battle."

Both demanded more information, particularly details of the direction the fleeing orcs had taken and any identifying banners they bore.

"We would still encounter parties of orcs for many months after the Battle," said Tauriel, "but it has been some time since any dared approach the city. Now there are only the creatures of Dol Guldur to fear in the darkness."

She then had to explain about those. Elladan drew back in his chair, deeply unsettled. "None could have known that banishing the Necromancer could have such far-reaching effects."

"You say you hunt these creatures at night?" Off Tauriel's nod, Elrohir continued, "we would be honoured to accompany you."

Tauriel's words caught in her throat. She wanted to say that she would be honoured to have them come, but it felt strange after they had expressed the same sentiment. She stuttered for a moment, then managed to stammer out that they would be very welcome.

"Tomorrow night, perhaps?" Elladan suggested.

"I will inform Captain Birger," said Tauriel.

--

Legolas Writing, by thethreehunters
Art post on AO3

She opened the letter as soon as she got back to her rooms.

> Dear Tauriel, > > I now understand why my father bid me to seek the Rangers of the North, although I cannot say more than that. Be assured that the reason is just and the impact of this decision will be for the greater good. The Rangers have been welcoming and my skills are being put to good use. > > I have no way to know if my father has seen reason, but I wish for both your sakes that he has. Please do not lose faith. He loves you as a daughter. > > If you should decide to join me in the west, make the journey to Imladris. They will know how to contact me. > > Your friend,
> Legolas

Tauriel put the letter aside and drew one long, slow breath after another until she felt calm. Imladris held no more appeal to her now than it had in the aftermath of the battle. Perhaps it held even less appeal now that she had begun spreading roots in this strange new world.

I am not ready to leave here, she thought. It was somehow comforting.

Tilda knocked on Tauriel's door and entered before Tauriel could say anything. "I think Prince Kíli missed you at dinner," she said. "He kept looking over at you." She peered up at Tauriel, daring her to say something.

"Is that so?" said Tauriel absently. She fingered the paper of the letter, feeling the crumple of its folds beneath her fingertips.

"Who is the letter from?" asked Tilda.

Tauriel blinked and looked down at her. "An old friend," she explained, folding the letter briskly and putting it away. "He travelled west after the Battle."

"The blond Elf?"

Tauriel smiled. "Legolas, yes. My best friend from childhood."

"You must miss him," said Tilda. She settled herself on the bed and folded her legs under her.

"I do," she admitted. "I miss him a lot. He was as an elder brother to me."

"I don't get to see my friends much now," said Tilda. "And they look at me funny when I do. So now I don't want to see them."

Tauriel thought about that. "I think if you were to keep trying, they would grow used to it. Sometimes people take time to adjust to changes."

"Do you really think so?" asked Tilda wistfully.

"I think you should try," said Tauriel. "And if doesn't work, you know you did the best you could. And I will always be your friend."

Tilda crawled over and hugged her tightly. "Thank you, Tauriel."

Tauriel relaxed into the hug and stroked the girl's hair lightly. "You're welcome, Tilda. And I think you should go to bed now, don't you?"

Tilda yawned. "Don't tell Sigrid I was out?"

"Your secret is safe with me," Tauriel promised.

--

"Will you tell us a story of the Men who married Elves?" asked Tilda the next day.

Tauriel considered the request. "Have you never heard any of the Tale of Beren and Luthien?"

The three children shook their heads.

"I've heard the names," said Sigrid. "But I have never heard the full story."

"It is very long," said Tauriel. "Perhaps we can learn it in parts." She hummed a note to herself, then started the first stanza. "Do any of those words seem familiar to you?"

"It's about trees," said Tilda. Bain nodded in agreement.

"I heard something about stars," added Sigrid doubtfully.

"You are all correct," said Tauriel. "It begins like this: 'The leaves were long, the grass was green / The hemlock-umbels tall and fair / And in the glade a light was seen / Of stars in shadow shimmering'."

They continued like this for some time, translating and elaborating on the story whenever necessary.

From the doorway, she heard somebody clearing their throat. "Sorry to interrupt," said Elrohir, in Westron for once. "I heard someone singing in Elvish. Is that how you remember that song in the Woodland Realm?"

Tauriel flushed at the implication. "That is how I learned it."

"I do not mean to criticise," he clarified. "I am just curious. I liked the phrasing in the third stanza." He turned to their audience. "Are all the songs you learn so sad?"

The children only stared at him with wide eyes.

"A lot of our history is sad," said Tauriel defensively.

"Ah, and you use the songs to teach history? That is how we teach our young, although it has been many years since there were any in Imladris! But I think you have forgotten there is more to songs than history."

Tauriel raised her eyebrows. "Perhaps you could teach us a song, then, my lord."

Elrohir grinned, as if that was the entire reason he had raised the topic. He launched into a tune that was at least half utter nonsense, and the rest merely made no sense. By the end of it, Tauriel's shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter.

The children looked bemused.

"Tauriel usually translates it for us next," Tilda pointed out.

"I would be happy to oblige, my lady," he said. "The first line talks about the sky being green and the grass being purple." He continued in this vein for some time.

Tilda giggled. "You're silly. That's not a real song!"

"Oh? I assure you, we Elves are very silly indeed."

"Tauriel isn't silly," said Tilda.

"Tauriel will learn," said Elrohir.

--

Captain Birger was taken aback at the addition of two extra Elves to his Night Watch, along with his usual Elf and Kíli, who had insisted on taking a shift that night. He relaxed in relief when Tauriel said she would take care of all three.

Birger assigned the groups for the Watch and the Watch split. They stood together on the parapets as Elrohir restrung his bow. Tauriel took the opportunity to check her own for flaws in the wood. There was a spot that worried her.

"Your bow is not of Elven make," observed Elladan.

Tauriel stroked it self-consciously. "No. My own was destroyed, and I was unable to obtain a replacement. This one has been a hard-working companion, despite its inferior start to life."

Elladan and Elrohir both bore bows of fine Elven make. Elladan unslung his from his back and offered it to her. "Can you draw this?"

It was of delicate, light wood but felt solid in her hands. She did not think the workmanship in the Imladris style. Perhaps this bow was of Lothlorien. "It's beautiful," she said. Glancing at Elladan for permission, she pulled an arrow from her quiver and fired at a distant tree-stump that had seen much usage for this purpose over the past year.

She made as if to give it back, but Elladan shook his head. "Keep it," he told her. "I can find a replacement, easily enough."

To refuse such a gift would be unaccountably rude, but she flushed. "I am honoured by your generosity, my lord."

"It is a small thing gladly given," Elladan responded. "Where shall we hunt?"

Tauriel led them south, towards the river banks. There had been reports of low fish stocks recently, and any reports of strangeness had to be investigated. The Day Watch reported nothing.

"Keep an eye out for disturbances in the reeds or strange ripples in the water," she told the others. "Don't shoot until we've had the chance to see what it is."

They patrolled the river bank for several hours before they had any indication of the mysterious creature.

She heard the plop of something ducking under the water and held up a hand.

"I heard it too," said Elrohir, followed by Elladan's swift agreement. Kíli frowned and said nothing.

Tauriel directed them silently to circle around towards where they'd heard the sound. She heard two more before they drew close enough to see.

Whatever it was had tentacles and eyeballs on stalks. She could see it wrapping itself around a tall reed and batting a tentacle into the water. Two eyes were warily fixed on the surrounding, and another two were under water.

Tauriel indicated that they should stand still. The creature's eyes looked like they would detect movement easier than colour or light.

There were no visible ears. Tauriel deliberately put her weight down heavily on a twig and the creature did not even twitch.

The creature scooped a fish out of the water and devoured it, opening a large mouth that was no less unsettling for having no teeth at all.

"I think it is deaf," murmured Tauriel. "But I have not seen one of these before and I know not how to kill it." The body was translucent, like a jellyfish, and she could see no sign of internal organs. How it would digest the fish, she knew not. She could still see it, twitching in the creature's stomach.

"It does not appear to have any internal organs to damage with arrows," agreed Elladan.

"Perhaps fire?" said Kíli. "Can you make fire arrows?"

"I do have rags and lamp oil," Tauriel admitted. "There are other creatures that are best defeated with fire. In this damp I do not think we need fear setting the grass aflame."

A second fish joined the first in the creature's stomach.

Tauriel prepared the rags and Kíli carefully wrapped them around his arrowheads. They set the flame and the air filled with smoke. Kíli starting coughing, his eyes filling with tears. Tauriel put a hand on his shoulder to steady, and he fired.

The arrow flew straight and true, but extinguished as soon as it hit its target. The creature let out an ear-splitting scream and disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

They approached the river bank cautiously.

"I do not think we killed it," said Elladan.

"I fear you are correct," said Tauriel. "It was a good attempt."

"Is this river saltwater or fresh?" asked Elrohir.

"Fresh," said Tauriel.

"I do not know the creature's origins, but if it is similar to slugs and snails, we may be able to injure it with salt."

"It will be worth the experiment, if we encounter it again," agreed Tauriel.

They lingered by the river bank for some time, but the creature did not reappear.

"I will tell the Watch what we discovered and suggest some things to try if they encounter one," Tauriel decided. "We should return to the city. It is almost dawn."

It was a clear night, bringing with it an accompanying drop in temperature and cold wind. She could see by the time they reached the city that Kíli was barely able to keep his teeth from chattering.

She walked him back to his room, pleased when his shivering stopped once they were out of the elements.

Kíli paused at his door. "I didn't know you needed a new bow," he said. His expression was drawn and weary.

"That is because I had no such need," she said. "My bow was perfectly adequate."

"I could have..." He broke off, scowling. "There must be something I can do for you."

"Kíli," she said, waiting until he looked up before smiling. "I need nothing from you save your presence."

He bit his lip and glanced away. "You are very kind."

"It is not kindness!" said Tauriel, wondering if this was another of the cultural misunderstandings she seemed to be encountering so often. "I wish you to be with me because I enjoy your company." It was a declaration so bold she could only hope the sons of Elrond were not listening in.

"And I yours. For— for as long as I can, forever, if you'll let me."

She sighed. "It is impossible. I would not be welcome in your home, and I... no longer have a home."

Kíli was silent for a long moment. "Erebor isn't my home. It's my uncle's home, and my mother's home, but for me home is... Home is Fíli, home is warm stew on the stove in winter, it's fresh berries in summer, it's... The smell of the forge and rock dust."

"There is none of that here," Tauriel pointed out quietly.

"Home is people," said Kíli. "And home is where those people are. And... those people can change."

"Kíli," she said helplessly.

He put on a bright smile and bowed to her. "I stand by my words."

They were brave words. But they were the words of a ballad, of long-dead heroes and tragic romance. In the here and now, exile was a looming shadow of loneliness.

"I believe that you do," said Tauriel. "But I hope they will not come to pass."

--

VI

The next morning brought Kíli to Estrella's door. She gave Tauriel a look full of meaning, but didn't say a word.

Kíli entered Estrella's workshop with a distinct limp. He levered himself onto the couch and winced.

Tauriel took one look at him and frowned. "Is it your knee?"

"It takes me like this every so often," he said, rubbing at it. "I'll be fine for weeks, then suddenly I can barely walk on it."

"Let me see," she demanded. "You didn't tell me of this when I asked before." Cheeks turning pink, he rolled up his trousers. The scar on his knee was angry red, although there was no sign of bruising or broken skin. "A Morgul shaft," murmured Tauriel. "Such wounds are not so easily healed. You must be careful!" She stood again and collected a pot of numbing salve. "This will ease the pain, but it will not heal the wound. You must keep your weight off it until the pain recedes. Do you have a cane?"

"No, I—"

Tauriel muttered something uncomplimentary in Elvish. "I will get you one." She knew there was a cane in the storage room intended for children, and hoped it would not be too short for a Dwarf.

"I don't need—"

"Kíli," she said. "You cannot assist the Night Watch if you cannot walk."

"I don't think it's overwork," he said, words tumbling over each other in their rush to come out. "I think it's something else. It doesn't hurt on nights we don't find any creatures."

She stood and paced to the worktable. "It is not often I wish I knew more of the Necromancer's power. The wound could be reacting to the presence of evil."

He shivered. "Can we do anything about it?"

"If I had Lord Elrond's resources, perhaps. As it is, I will do my best without." She resolved to talk to Elladan and Elrohir before they left.

Kíli subsided, cheeks flushed. "I'm scared if I admit weakness they'll send me home."

"I healed that wound at great personal risk," Tauriel pointed out. "Respect my feelings if you will not respect your own. And if you treat the injury with the respect it deserves, it will not be a weakness."

She heard Estrella biting back snickers behind her.

"I understand," he said, subdued.

"You are a fine warrior, Kíli," said Tauriel. "I have been honoured to fight by your side. I do not require proof of that."

He looked at his feet. "You're pretty fine yourself. As a warrior, I mean. Although… the other thing too."

They stared at each other.

"Children, this is a healer's workshop, not a tavern," said Estrella. "Some of us have work to do."

Kili started, turning instantly red. "I'd better get back. Fili will kill me."

"Surely your brother can spare you long enough to have your injury treated by a Healer," said Tauriel.

"Yes, but he… it doesn't matter." He got back to his feet and hissed in pain. "I think I'll take you up on that offer of a cane," he said, flopping back onto the couch.

--

Tauriel was pleased to see Kíli was using his cane at dinner. His brother was sticking very close to his side and helped him into his chair. She signed a query and he assured her that he was well.

She turned back to her companions, who were looking at her in amusement. "I was wondering about something. Lord Elrond is known for his healing ability, is he not?"

"That is true, although of the three of us only our sister has shown inclination to follow his footsteps."

"My friend suffered a Morgul wound at the hands of Dol Guldur's orcs last year."

The others hissed in sympathy. "That is a nasty fate."

"It is beyond my ability to cure wholly, but I hoped I might be able to seek advice in Imladris."

"If you were to visit the House of Elrond, I am certain you would not be turned away, no matter who your companion were," said Elrohir.

Tauriel flushed and did not glance at Kíli's table.

"You remind me of our sister, a little," said Elladan. While Tauriel was reeling, confused at the entire notion of being compared to Arwen Undomiel, he continued. "You are serious, like she. And, like our sister, you consider giving your heart to a mortal."

Tauriel could feel her cheeks burning.

"Neither I nor Elrohir have ever married, so I have no worthy advice for you. But, Tauriel, consider that regret for actions not taken can last as long as grief."

"I understand," she managed to say. "I thank you for your insight."

He laughed. "It is not insight, merely observation. And I confess I am the romantic type. Forbidden love is a popular topic for poets."

"The Elves consider such songs tragedy," said Tauriel.

He acknowledged the truth of that with a wry nod. "Yet if an Elf had never loved a mortal, my siblings and I would never have come into being. The line of the kings of Numenor would never have been." He smiled. "Morgoth would undoubtedly still sit on his throne with a crown of Silmarils three."

She recognised the joke with a small smile of her own.

"Mortals die, Tauriel. They live short lives, many of them unhappy. Would you not wish to ensure that one lives a happy life?"

"It is not so easy as that," she said. "It is a difficult thing to give up your home, your family, for the sake of love."

"But Tauriel," said Elrohir. "It is not your choice to make."

She glanced across the room again and found Kíli watching her. She flushed and turned back to her food.

A few moments passed before conversation resumed.

"We will depart tomorrow morning," said Elrohir. "We intend to travel to Gundabad and see the fortress for ourselves. Then we will return through the Woodland Realm." He gave a knowing look at her reaction. "King Thranduil requested we inquire after your health. Is there any message you would have us pass on?"

Tauriel was surprised to realise she was still bitter. "No," she said. "Only that I am in good health."

"I will not ask what passed between you that you should both be so angry," said Elrohir.

"It is not so much a single thing as a culmination of much grief," said Tauriel. "And I will spare you the explanation."

He inclined his head. "I will pass on the news of your continued health. Did you have a return message for Legolas, whom I hope you have less anger toward?"

"I do," said Tauriel. "I will fetch it for you after dinner. Thank you for taking it."

"I am honoured to be of service," said Elrohir.

--

When Tauriel returned to her room for the night there was a Dwarf waiting for her. It wasn't the Dwarf she expected.

Fíli shifted uncomfortably. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

Tauriel led him to the tower she had taken Kíli to, all those weeks ago.

In unknowing imitation of his brother, Fíli leant heavily against the stone wall. "I must know. What are your intentions towards my brother?"

"I beg your pardon?" said Tauriel, taken aback by the sheer audacity of the question. She wondered if this kind of confrontation was considered polite amongst Dwarves.

"You know his feelings for you," he insisted.

"We are friends," she said guardedly. If Kíli's brother did not approve of their relationship, she had no desire be the cause of further strife between them.

"Friends," he repeated. "If you have no intention of accepting his feelings, you must stop seeing him."

"As we are both adults, I do not see that it is any business of yours what my intentions may be," she said. She would not have terms dictated to her by a stranger.

"He is my brother and I will not see him hurt for your own amusement," said Fíli.

Tauriel was so offended words stuck in her throat. If this were really what Dwarves thought of Elves, it was no wonder they reacted with such hostility to her. "It is not my intention to hurt anybody. I am very fond of your brother."

Fíli looked somewhat mollified. "But you do not return his declaration?"

Tauriel shook her head. "I don't understand."

He sighed and rubbed at his temples. "I am sure you mean well. But you do not realise what this is doing to him!"

"If Kíli has something he wishes to say to me, I would rather he tell me himself," said Tauriel.

He gave her a look of profound disappointment, and took his leave.

Tauriel was not given to expressing her emotions through violence, but she considered the effect the stone wall would have on her foot for some time.

Was she always to be held accountable for other people's feelings for her? It was hard enough trying to make sense of her own without having to explain them another.

--

Kíli found her at Estrella's two days later, obviously in distress. Estrella didn't even bother protesting, just took one look at him and all but shoved Tauriel out the door.

They walked through the cobbled streets in silence for some time, meandering this way and that until they were standing on the city walls.

"We had a raven from Uncle today," said Kíli. He was looking at his boots. "He requests that I return to Erebor as soon as possible."

Tauriel stopped in her tracks. "Did he give a reason?"

"Just that he wants me to report." Now he looked up at her. "I won't go," he said. "I told you I would stay and I will."

Tauriel turned her head to the east. It was a bright, clear day and the Lonely Mountain fairly shone in the morning light. "Kíli... to leave one's home by choice is one thing. To be denied ever returning, not by your own will... it is like losing a limb. It hurts, not just at first but whenever you are reminded of it."

"I told you, Erebor is not my home." He gave her a defiant look.

"But it is where your uncle lives, your mother... Your brother, if he chooses. Kíli, I am not saying I wish you to return forever. That is the last thing I want! But you must wait before burning your bridges. Give things a chance to resolve naturally."

"If Uncle knows about you, he will never give me leave to return."

"Then we must hope for leniency from other quarters," she said. "And if you cannot convince him, we will find another way."

He sighed. "I suppose that is the responsible, mature thing to do." He made the words sound like utter filth, and she almost smiled in spite of herself.

"Just at first," she said. "If you wish to be impulsive later, that is acceptable."

He gave her a weak smile.

"Do you know on what he expects you to report?" she asked, and Kíli shook his head. "Then I think you should report on things as they are. You wish to prove to your Uncle – to everybody – that you can be responsible. The first step along that path is convincing them you can observe and draw conclusions."

He nodded slowly. "But what do I say?"

"I think you will find you have plenty to say about the Kingdom of Dale." She paused. "And you should tell your uncle that if the North is to withstand what is to come, it must stand together."

"What is to come?" he repeated.

"The Necromancer in Dol Guldur and the Battle of the Five Armies was the beginning of something far darker," she said. "We need as many allies as we can manage to weather that storm."

Kíli shivered. She stepped closer until she was standing at his back, her hands on his shoulders.

"Kíli," she said. She waited until he looked back up at her before she continued. "Though we be parted, the stars between us are the same."

His brows furrowed, puzzled. "It's daytime," he pointed out.

"We will meet again," she explained. "And things between us will not change while we are parted."

Chapter 3

VII

She missed him first at dinner. Although they had never yet been seated together, she had grown used to seeing his bright smile on the other side of the room. Hardly a meal went by without him signing some observation or other to her and making her bite back laughter.

"You're going to need a new partner," observed Captain Birger.

"I think I may take an evening off the Watch, if you can spare me," said Tauriel. "You can of course send for me if you need me."

"Of course," said Birger. He looked at her in consideration. "Are you not well?"

"I just need a night's rest," said Tauriel.

"I did not think your kind needed rest."

Tauriel laughed. "Not in the way that you think of it, perhaps, but I assure you, we cannot run forever without pause."

"Then I am sure you deserve a night off," said Birger.

Neither of the girls came by her chambers after dinner, and Tauriel soon found herself regretting her decision. The Halls felt dark and empty, and her own chambers held little comfort. She mounted the stairs to the tower and gazed out at the distant sky. There were no stars to be seen and she soon returned.

She was almost relieved to be called upon several hours after midnight to care for a Night Watchman who had been gored by some manner of fell beast.

"I am sorry I was absent tonight," she said. "If I had been there—"

"If you had been there it would have taken even longer to find you," interrupted Varn. "Don't worry yourself."

Once she'd sent the two Night Watchmen on their way, she made her way to the city walls. She let the Watchman in the tower know her plans and set out for the river bank. Perhaps hunting some monsters would calm her mind where silence would not.

Twice she turned to caution Kíli and realised he was not at her side. She killed three creatures that might once have been squirrels and bagged them as if caught in a dream.

When the Night Watch gathered for debriefing, Birger shot her a concerned look.

She waved off his questions and excused herself to return to the King's Halls.

--

Life returned to its routine. Tauriel helped the Healer in the mornings, taught the children in the afternoons, and assisted the Night Watch when they needed the help.

"Tauriel," called Estrella one morning, in tones dry as sand, "there is another Dwarf to see you."

Tauriel entered the front room to find her Dwarf lady patient from before Midwinter. "I remember you," she said. "How is your leg?"

"Very well-healed," said the Dwarf lady, drawing up her skirts and drawers to display the limb. Tauriel leant down to examine it. There were faint red lines showing where the wound had been.

"Dwarves are fast healers," said Tauriel, impressed. "I am glad you had no problems."

"You were right to insist I keep my weight off it, no matter the effect on my dignity." The Dwarf lady lowered her skirts again. "I do not think we were properly introduced when first we met," she said. "My name is Dís, daughter of Thrain, sister to the King Under the Mountain."

Tauriel's mouth fell open in surprise. "You are Kíli's mother?"

The Dwarf lady inclined her head in a nod. It was hard to tell under the beard, but her eyes twinkled like she was hiding a smile.

Tauriel bowed. "I apologise for not greeting you with the respect you deserve."

"It would be nonsensical to take offence for that, since I committed the first impolite act by not introducing myself." Dís arranged her skirts around her as she sat, fixing Tauriel with a piercing gaze.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance again, Lady Dís. Would you like tea? Wine?"

"Tea would be lovely, thank you," said Dís. "And my title is Dís, daughter of Thrain, Princess Under the Mountain, but you may call me Dís." She watched Tauriel with sharp eyes as Tauriel coaxed the fire back to life and settled the kettle on the stove. She set two cups and the teapot on the bench and measured two heaping spoons of tea into the pot before sitting opposite Dís.

"My eldest son tells me that he found you arrogant and contrary," said Dís. "In order to protect his brother's feelings, he thought it prudent to advise my brother to recall Kíli from Dale."

This unlooked-for explanation gave Tauriel pause.

"I did not find you arrogant at our first meeting," continued Dís. "I think you are wilful and headstrong, like my youngest. So I thought I must speak to you myself."

Tauriel folded her hands in her lap and tried to look composed.

She peered at Tauriel. "How old are you?"

Tauriel drew back. What was this obsession mortals had with one's precise age?

"I apologise. Is that a very rude question?"

"It is not something important to my people in the same it seems it is to mortals," she admitted. "I am considered quite young, although well past the first blushes of youth." The kettle whistled and Tauriel rose to fill the teapot.

"And you are still prevented from rejoining your people?"

"I am still banished from King Thranduil's realm." She was proud that her voice remained steady.

Dís's lips tightened, but Tauriel couldn't determine the cause. "Has Kíli ever spoken of love to you?"

Tauriel felt herself tense and consciously worked to relax again. "It is generally not the custom of my people to talk about a relationship with others until it is well-established," she said at last.

Dís suddenly laughed. "This explains much of your conversation with Fíli. Lass, I want to help you. But if we're going to untangle this mess we need to start from the beginning."

Tauriel hesitated. "When he lay delirious before me, he mistook me for an illusion and asked if I could have loved him."

Dís looked like she was hiding a smile. "Did you speak of this after he woke?"

"No. But when we parted, he... he gave me something, and said some words I did not understand. He told me I knew what they meant."

Dís straightened. "And neither of you have spoken of it since?"

"I offered to return his gift when we reunited," Tauriel admitted. "But he asked me to keep it."

"I am not so slow-of-wit as my son thinks," said Dís. "He gave you the rune stone he got from me."

Tauriel admitted that this was the case. She poured the tea and placed the cups on the side-table, in easy reach of both their seats.

"Dwarf courtship begins with a declaration of intent from the courting party and a gift," she said. "The courting party then withdraws and waits for the other party to make a return declaration." She raised her eyebrows.

"I have given him no gift," Tauriel admitted. "I have made declarations in the manner of my people, but... I suspect he understood them less than I understood his. I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt him."

Dís rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "I am older and less wildly passionate than my sons," she said. "It is not your fault that you do not understand our ways."

"What should I do?" she whispered.

"Lass, nobody can make anybody's heart up for them."

"My heart is made up. It is not that which I doubt." It would do no good to explain that Elf courtship could take years before the couple talked about marriage.

Dís looked at her thoughtfully. "Then I agree with my eldest – when next you meet, you must either return his declaration or decline it."

Tauriel's head whipped up. "Have I your blessing to accept it?"

"Is that important to you?"

"If loving me would draw Kíli away from his family, I must know."

"One can travel between Erebor and Dale in only a few hours," said Dís drily. "That is no great burden for my son's happiness."

"I cannot imagine that your people would approve of an Elf stealing one of their princes."

"It is not unusual for my people to never marry at all," said Dís. "If you two do not wish it to be public, none would think it all strange for Kíli to remain attached to Dale as a diplomat."

"But is that what he wants?"

"Lass, I don't think even Kíli knows what he wants from the future. Let him make his own decisions."

"I will try."

"For my part, I think you two will do well together. I'd despaired of him ever finding something to take seriously." Dís got to her feet again. "I didn't come here to interrogate you, lass. I was hoping you could make us some medicine to take back. All paid and accounted for as part of our new trade agreement, of course."

Estrella, who must have been listening the whole time, bustled into the room again. "Let me handle that."

Tauriel was glad of it, although she sensed there would be many questions for her to answer later. She suspected the task beyond her right now.

--

Sigrid entered Tauriel's chambers after dinner and closed the door firmly behind her. "Tauriel," said Sigrid. "What is it like to be in love?"

Tauriel's tongue felt heavy in her mouth. It took her several minutes before she was able to speak. "I... I do not know how to begin."

"But you think you are in love, don't you?"

Tauriel froze. "You sound like Tilda," she said, aiming for a light tone. "Why are you so interested in love all of a sudden?"

Sigrid sighed in irritation. "Because I think I have never experienced it."

"But that is no great tragedy," said Tauriel. "It is a painful and confusing process."

Sigrid frowned. "Do you actually mean that?"

Tauriel shrugged helplessly. "I am afraid," she said, barely above a whisper. "I am afraid to say it is love, because that is a commitment. Because to love a mortal is to watch someone die." She sighed. "But that will happen regardless."

Sigrid had turned pale. "I hadn't thought of it like that. What it must be like for you to watch us grow old and die."

"I have never had mortal friends before now," said Tauriel. "And I do not have regrets. I would not have it another way."

"I'm sorry," said Sigrid. "But I am glad to have met you."

"And as for how I feel about Kíli... no, I would not change that either."

They sat in silence for several moments.

Sigrid drew her knees up to her chest and sighed. "Am I wrong for not wanting that for myself?"

Tauriel smiled. "According to what I was taught, either you will one day experience it or you will not. There is nothing wrong with either way."

"Do you think it could be different for Men?"

"Since you tell me humans sometimes do not marry for love at all, I do not see why it should be."

"I don't want to get married," said Sigrid. "Not now, not ever." She gave Tauriel a defiant look.

Not certain what response was expected of her, Tauriel ventured, "Then, don't?"

Sigrid sighed. "It may not be my choice, if Da decides he needs to cement political bonds by marriage."

The concept of marrying for political gain alone was again so bewildering that Tauriel stared at her in silence for several moments. "Would that really happen?"

"I don't know. Back when it was just us and Da I think he would have done anything to make us happy, but now we have to contend with an entire kingdom."

"I would wager your father misses you as much as you miss him," said Tauriel.

"This isn't about him," snapped Sigrid. She flushed and continued sheepishly. "Perhaps it is a little about Da. But I am serious about not wanting to marry."

"I believe you," said Tauriel.

"You don't think I'm selfish? Cold-hearted?"

Men were strange indeed. "Of course not. It is better to find the direction of one's heart earlier in life than later."

Sigrid sighed. "You must think me terribly insensitive, talking about this when your romantic interest is separated from you."

"I do not mind that so much, save that I have spoken of it more with you and his mother than I have with him."

"Are you going to go after him?" asked Sigrid. "Bang on the doors of Erebor until they bring him to you? That would be a tale for the ages."

Tauriel smiled and thought of Elrohir. She was almost sorry to disappoint him. "I hope that will not be necessary," said Tauriel. "I think Dís and I have managed to reach an accord."

"The Princess Under the Mountain was here?"

Tauriel blinked. "She didn't come by the King's Halls?"

"Not that I'm aware of. But I am certain she could not have meant any offence by it?" She winced at the uncertainty in her own voice.

"I think she had other things on her mind," said Tauriel.

Sigrid hummed in thought. "And now you just need to convince his uncle?"

"I will leave that in the hands of the King's nephew and sister, by preference," said Tauriel firmly. "But I am hoping I will have thought of some words to say before that occurs."

"Did you part on bad terms?" asked Sigrid. "I didn't think you had, so I'm sorry if you did and I'm being insensitive."

"No," said Tauriel. "Not bad terms with him, at least. I fear his brother is another matter."

Sigrid smiled. "He's looking out for his little brother. I can relate. If Tilda told me she wanted to marry someone right now I'd probably have the man arrested."

Tauriel laughed, startled. "Surely not!"

"I'd just want to know he isn't going to hurt her," explained Sigrid.

"I fear it is possible to hurt a person even if one doesn't will it," Tauriel admitted. "Perhaps there is a place for siblings in the process after all."

--

A royal servant entered Estrella's door, looking very nervous. Her gaze flickered around the room until it landed on Tauriel, and her shoulders relaxed a tiny amount. "Lady Tauriel, if you please, King Bard wants you to see him when you're finished here," said Githa.

"Githa, I have no title, you should address me as Tauriel," Tauriel reminded the girl.

Githa blushed. "But you are an Elf, my— ma'am."

"And I am an Elf commoner," said Tauriel firmly. "But I will accept King's Bard invitation to see him. Did he say why?"

Githa shook her head. "No ma'am. I'll tell him to expect you." She scurried off through the door before Tauriel could say anything else.

"Do you see a lot of the King?" asked Estrella. "I can't blame the girl for thinking you're a lady if you do."

"No," said Tauriel. "Not a lot. Sometimes he asks me to report on how the children are doing, but that never lasts long."

Estrella shrugged. "Do you think that's what this is about?"

"He's never sent for me like this before," said Tauriel. "So I can't say."

"Do you think it's about your Dwarf betrothed?" asked Estrella, winking.

"I most sincerely hope not," said Tauriel.

Bard looked up from his desk as Tauriel entered several hours later. The time since the fall of Smaug and the Battle of the Five Armies had changed him – for the better, she thought. His expression was still of perpetual worry, but there was little of the fear and stress that had so marked his face in those early days.

"Tauriel, I'm glad to see you. I wanted to get your thoughts on how you think Dale should position itself in relation to the other kingdoms of the North."

Tauriel frowned. "My lord, I am but a guard captain."

"And yet somehow I have the impression you have opinions on this subject." He smiled to take the edge off the statement.

"Do you wish me to speak frankly, my lord?"

"Please. It does me no good to hear what I want to hear."

Tauriel took a moment to get her thoughts in order. "You are concerned that if Dale is not seen as a strong kingdom, it will suffer at the hands of those who would take advantage of it. But it has been over a year and in that time you have received greetings only from Rivendell. Your immediate neighbours are Erebor, Mirkwood, and the Iron Hills. Rohan and Gondor in the south have sent no messages."

Bard nodded slowly. "That is true."

"Of Lothlórien to the southwest, even in King Thranduil's Halls we have heard nothing in many years. Dorwinion has no rulership to speak of, merely trade cartels who care little for anything but money. The other Men of the East hate the Free Peoples regardless."

Bard tapped his finger on the desk. "You are saying my only allies are Erebor and Mirkwood?"

"Yes. And you will need allies in the coming years. None of your kingdoms can afford to waste resources on dissent between yourselves."

"It is not a matter I can solve on my own," Bard pointed out. "I have had no word from King Thranduil since his departure after the Battle, and thus far all we have negotiated with Erebor is trade agreements."

"I have no direct influence over any other party," said Tauriel. "But if you take the first step, I believe they will meet you. There is much at stake."

He sighed. "I know you are right, and yet... we are busy enough trying to build our own kingdom."

Tauriel smiled. "As are the Dwarves of Erebor." She took a deep breath before continuing. "And the Woodland Realm lost its people in greater numbers than they have since the Second Age. They are unaccustomed to such grief."

Bard inclined his head. "You are correct, once again."

Tauriel folded her hands in front of her before speaking again. "I have one more piece of advice. You needn't fear how others perceive the kingdom. To the Woodland Realm, Dale will always be a kingdom of mortals. To the Dwarves, a city of Men. They have no further expectations of you that should concern you."

It was a long moment before he responded. "You are referring to my dislike for involving Sigrid in politics."

"And that the girls are not being offered weapons training," said Tauriel. "I do not think Sigrid cares for the idea, but Tilda has expressed interest."

He glanced away, drumming his fingers on the desk and biting his lip. "I have always felt I forced Sigrid to grow up too quickly. I was away so often, and she was just left to pick up after me."

"You do her no favours by restricting her choices now," Tauriel pointed out gently.

He sighed again. "In Lake-town we were little more than outcasts. It is not wrong to wish for that to change now that we are unexpectedly in a position that requires respect."

"And it has changed," Tauriel pointed out. "And I do not think that respect will be lost if you give your daughters more freedom. Many of the women of Dale wish they had been able to help during the Battle."

"I will think on it," he said at last. "Thank you, Tauriel."

--

VIII

Spring returned to the land in bits and pieces, as was its wont. It would be many decades yet before life truly returned to the desolation of Smaug, but since the demise of the dragon the first attempts were being made. Grasses were poking their heads up from the soil, bulbs were sprouting and blooming. The few trees that were left were blossoming hopefully.

She had even heard the chirps and twitters of wild birds taking up residence in the city. For their part, the Necromancer's creatures appeared to take the days growing longer as a hint and were disappearing from the region.

The halls of the King of Dale were bustling with unknown energy when Tauriel returned from Estrella's one morning. She made her way to their classroom largely ignored by the staff, all of whom seemed too busy for her to stop and ask for an explanation.

Tilda was waiting in the classroom, alone. "Da is talking to Sigrid and Bain," she explained. "But you can teach me something they don't know to make up for it, if you like."

Tauriel laughed. "What would you like to know?"

"Something silly," said Tilda.

Tauriel considered . A memory floated by, of her mother singing nonsense tunes as she tried to teach young Tauriel to catch a thrown ball. She smiled. "Very well."

Tilda had memorised the first verse and its translation when Sigrid and Bain finally joined them.

"Sorry we're late," said Sigrid breathlessly.

Her brother repeated the apology, and added, "Da had a message from the Elvenking today."

Tauriel drew in her breath sharply and Sigrid gave her a sympathetic look. "But that's not all. The King Under the Mountain also sent a message. They both want to negotiate a treaty between our three kingdoms."

"That is wonderful news," said Tauriel.

"Da asked me to sit in on the council sessions as well as Bain," said Sigrid, her eyes shining.

Tauriel smiled with genuine feeling. "I am pleased to hear it."

"But the servants are in a panic because they want it to start in three days," explained Bain. "Nobody is sure where we're going to fit everybody."

Tauriel thought about the panicked servants and winced. "I see how that would be a problem here." She took a deep breath. "You can tell them that I will stay in the Healer's chambers during the negotiations. I would not want to make things uncomfortable or complicate matters."

Bain nodded, while Sigrid and Tilda looked mutinous.

"But since you are all here now, perhaps we can begin today's lessons?" Tauriel interceded. "I can teach you how you should address the Elvenking and his retinue."

Sigrid gave Tauriel a look that said this wasn't over.

--

As promised, Sigrid found her in her chambers after dinner. "Are you all right, Tauriel?" she asked. "I know you don't like to talk about the Elvenking. And you shouldn't have to give up your room for him."

"I am not in any distress. I could not avoid him forever." She shrugged. "If we should meet, whatever he has to say to me, I can take it. And these negotiations are too important to allow them to be impacted by my petty squabbles with my former king."

"What did you argue about? I don't think you ever told me."

Tauriel had explained to Bard the circumstances of her banishment, feeling it necessary he be aware, but not to the children. "It is a little ironic. We disagreed over involving ourselves in the affairs of mortals, and it came to a head during the Battle."

"Perhaps the Elvenking has come to see the wisdom of your advice," suggested Sigrid.

"I do not wish to give myself false hope. I will simply wait and see what the future brings."

"You don't have to be selfless, you know. You don't have to be in control all the time."

"You think I am selfless?" asked Tauriel, diverted.

Sigrid looked embarrassed. "Everything you do here is for other people. The Healer's, the Night Watch, teaching us, none of it is for you."

"But it is for me," Tauriel pointed out. "Because the alternative is isolation, like the Elvenking. And... I can think of one thing which is for me."

Sigrid smiled. "Perhaps this new treaty will bring change on that front, too."

--

Estrella had Tauriel deliver some parcels of medicine to the lower city, where several families had come down with lung damp. As Tauriel passed the marketplace she saw the banners flying.

Once she'd delivered the medicine and Estrella's firm instructions on how to use it, she made her way back to the marketplace.

She took stock of the vendors in attendance. The leatherworker was absent, as was the wine seller. But there were several jewellers and clothiers. She sifted through silks and finely woven linens, but nothing caught her eye. She had no better luck at the jeweller. None of it was as fine as the Elven work she was accustomed to save the Dwarf work, which she felt would not be an acceptable courting gift.

The jeweller fixed her with a knowing eye. "You a Wood-Elf, lady?"

Tauriel's eyes flicked up to meet his. "I am," she said cautiously.

The jeweller pulled a leather bag out from under the table and emptied a collection of stones onto the sheepskin that was laid out over the table. "Finest amber," she said. "Wood-Elves always want amber."

Tauriel had never been partial to it for herself, but when she thought about it on someone else, her interest deepened. "Can you make hair beads out of these?"

"If I had lovely long hair like yours, I'd want to decorate it too," said the jeweller. "I don't think these will complement your colouring, though." The jeweller's hair was cropped short, barely falling below her ears.

"It's not for me. It's… a gift."

The jeweller winked. "Looking to court someone, are you?"

Tauriel flushed. It wasn't the custom among the Elves to give courting gifts at all, but this woman would have no way to know that.

The jeweller ignored her discomfort. "I have this bracelet. It would be easy enough to unstring it and enlarge the holes for beads if you wished. "

"Thank you, that sounds perfect," said Tauriel. "How long will it take?"

"I'm in town a few more days. This won't be the only commission I'm working on."

Tauriel passed over a few coins as a deposit and arranged to meet again in three days.

--

As promised, Tauriel moved into the Healer's chambers to make room for the visitors. Estrella herself didn't have an unused bed, but to fulfil the needs of Elven rest Tauriel needed only the lounge available in the front room.

Tauriel expected Bard would want to keep her as far as possible from the delegation of the Woodland Realm, so she was surprised when a royal servant arrived to invite her to formal dinner.

"You should ask your friend the King to ennoble you," suggested Estrella. "Then maybe you can stop being so surprised to be invited."

Tauriel did not dignify the teasing with a response.

She was seated with Birger, as usual. The poor page tied his tongue in knots trying to pronounce the names of all the Elves and Dwarves who made up both parties. She avoided the sweeping gaze of the Elvenking, turning her attention to her companions instead.

"Am I to expect these Elves in my Night Watch too?" asked Birger, winking at her.

Tauriel choked back laughter. "That is unlikely," she admitted. "Although there are several of my former guard subordinates in the party, I do not think they will have any interest." They would not risk their relationship with the Elvenking for her, and she couldn't blame them.

The Dwarf party included the King Under the Mountain himself, along with Dís, Kíli, the scribe Ori and an unfamiliar Dwarf introduced as Dwalin, War Chief Under the Mountain. Kíli looked very well indeed, dressed in blue and silver finery. His eyes met hers and he gave her a tentative smile, which she returned. He signed that he wanted to talk later, and she somehow managed to sign an acknowledgement while feeling panic rise in her heart.

Dís was not blind to the exchange, and nudged her son gently in the side to pull his attention back to the procession.

Tauriel let Birger lead the conversation over dinner, keenly aware that the Elf delegation would be able to hear her every word. They talked of the state of the Night Watch, of the creatures they had uncovered most recently, and the progress of the newest recruits.

As soon as the kings departed the dinner hall, Tauriel was surrounded by excited Wood-Elves.

"Tauriel!" said Elros. "You're alive!"

"I told you she was alive," said Nengel impatiently.

"The King refused to talk about you at all," said Élil. "He just said you were gone, and that Legolas had travelled west of the Misty Mountains."

"I had no news of you either," said Tauriel. "I'm glad to see you all still alive."

"But why are you here?" demanded Nengel. "Why didn't you come home?"

"The King banished me," said Tauriel, surprised at their ignorance. There was a chorus of surprised voices. "Did none of you know?"

"I heard it, but I thought it had to be a rumour," said Élil.

"It was no mere rumour. And it was not undeserved," Tauriel admitted. "So I chose to stay in Dale and help build this kingdom."

"Has it been terrible?" asked Nengel sympathetically.

Tauriel looked between the three of them, and wondered how she could even begin to explain. There was a Tauriel that had known these people, that had shared bread and laughed with them, guarded their backs in the forest dark while they in turn guarded hers. That Tauriel felt like she belonged centuries ago, not barely more than a year. "No," she said. "I've been happy here. The people of Dale are good and true."

Nengel looked confused.

Élil interrupted whatever Nengel may have tried to say next, which was probably for the best. "Do you know what Legolas and the King quarrelled over?"

"He did not tell me before he left," said Tauriel slowly.

Élil sighed. "I was sure you would know. You were so close."

"All he said was that the King had bid him to seek the Rangers of the North," said Tauriel. "And it seems he was successful in that."

"You weren't tempted to go with him?" exclaimed Nengel.

Tauriel shook her head. "The people of Dale needed me more." She took in their baffled faces and elected to change the subject. "But perhaps you can tell me what changed the King's mind about allying with Dale and Erebor?"

"We are not in his confidence as you were," Élil apologised.

"He had messages from both Rivendell and Mithrandir," said Elros. "Feren said Mithrandir left in quite the temper."

"He missed you," said Nengel.

The others stared at her, Tauriel included.

"It's true!" she protested. "When the sons of Elrond returned he immediately demanded news of you."

Her throat tightened, and Tauriel had to look away to regain her composure. "Thank you," she said at last.

"What for?" asked Nengel, and then looked offended as Élil and Elros started laughing. It was all so familiar that Tauriel joined them in laughter, and if it edged a little towards desperation none of them called her on it.

--

Once she managed to extract herself from the excited curiosity of her friends, Tauriel made her way to the guests' halls.

The Elvenking was standing outside his chambers. He was as refined and expressionless as ever.

She bowed her head in acknowledgement and walked past without meeting his eyes.

"Tauriel," he said, when she was a few steps past him.

She stopped, not turning around. She wondered if she should respond. How should she address him? To say "my king" now felt dishonest. Silence seemed like the safest response.

"I would have a word with you, if I may."

"There is nothing left for you to say to me, your majesty," she said. She almost wished she'd turned to see his face. The silence told her so little.

"I had taken your silence for sorrow, not anger," he said at last.

"Can it not be both?"

Thranduil did not appear to have a response to that.

Kíli appeared at the other end of the hall, and she wondered if he had heard their voices. "Tauriel? Are you coming?" Taking in the scene, he crooked his fingers in the sign for help?

She signed back to say she had the situation under control. "I'll join you in a moment," she said, and turned to face her former king.

When Kíli was out of earshot, Thranduil spoke again. "Are you going to marry the Dwarf?"

Her breath caught in her throat. "I don't know," she said truthfully. "I would like to."

"If you do not, there is a home for you in the Woodland Realm," said Thranduil.

"And if I do?" she asked. She looked him straight in the eyes, and dared him to say it. If she was to stay an exile, if the man who had been a father to her for six centuries was to uphold her banishment, she wanted to hear it from his own lips.

Thranduil quirked an eyebrow. "You will always be welcome in my Halls," he said. He turned, coats flaring behind him, and he walked away.

Tauriel took several deep breaths. Her heart was hammering in her chest, trying to break free. She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry.

The thought of talking to others in this state made her shudder. She fled for the tower.

She didn't know how long she stood, wind whipping her hair around her. Her mind felt as much in disarray as the breeze.

She heard footsteps on the stairs and turned to find Kíli standing in the doorway.

"What did he want?" asked Kíli. His expression showed exactly what he thought of the Elvenking.

"I am no longer an exile of the Woodland Realm," she said.

His face fell, but he valiantly tried to put on a smile. "That must be wonderful for you."

"It is a weight off my mind."

He swallowed. "Will you be returning with them?"

"No, my place is here. My intention is to only ever be a guest in the Elvenking's Halls."

Kíli let out his breath in a relieved sigh. "I am glad," he said. "I am deeply, selfishly glad."

Tauriel swallowed and tightened her hands around the silk bag in her left hand. "I have something for you."

"For me?" he repeated.

"A gift," she clarified. She was blushing. If Tilda could see her now!

She pressed the bag into his hands. "Can I open it?" he asked, barely waiting for her nod before untying it.

"These are beautiful," he said. "Is it amber? I've never seen it used like this before."

She supposed Dwarves were more used to fine gemstones. "They're, um, for your hair."

Then he was blushing too. "Would you like to put them in for me?"

"Does that mean something for your people?"

"No, it's just… intimate. Only for your closest friends and family."

"I would like for it to mean something," said Tauriel.

He blinked at her, his eyes very wide. "You would?"

"You must know that I do," she said gently. She wished she hadn't started this conversation while standing. To draw attention to their height difference by stooping felt like the worst kind of insult.

"I hoped," he said. He said something in his own language, then laughed to himself.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to understand," she began.

He shook his head and tugged at her hand. "It's cold out here," he said. "Let's go inside."

Bemused, she followed him to the staircase. It was narrow enough that walking side by side was difficult, and he had her lead until she was a few steps ahead of him. "Tauriel," he said, and she turned to face him. He grinned at her, eyes crinkling. "We're the same height now," he pointed out.

"May I kiss you?" she asked.

He pretended to think about it, and she felt light enough of heart to let him tease her. "Perhaps I should make you wait."

"If that is your will," she said, and laughed when he immediately pouted.

"Yes, you may kiss me," he said. So she did.

--

IX

Two nights into the negotiations, Dís took Tauriel aside after dinner.

"My lady," said Tauriel. She wondered what the appropriate greeting for Dwarf royalty was. Should she be bowing? Curtseying?

Dís bowed deeply. "Do you have a moment?"

"Of course," said Tauriel. She led her to the audience chamber and they sat opposite each other in what would usually be the waiting area.

"Kíli tells me you are welcome to return to the Woodland Realm," said Dís.

"That is true, although I have no intention of doing so."

"Have you considered staying on in a diplomatic position?" said Dís. "That is what I have recommended to Kíli."

"I considered it, but I do not think it is appropriate. With my close relationship with Bard's children, not to mention the Dwarves, I think my interests conflict too much for me to be an effective diplomat. Besides, I am a healer and a warrior. Politics are not a game I care to play."

"And yet you managed to bring about an alliance all thought impossible," said Dís.

"I?" said Tauriel, confused. "I did little but voice my fears."

"You voiced them to those who would listen," said Dís. "But nevertheless, I think you are right. And no doubt it would be good for you to have another of your race in the city."

"There are few I know who would willingly choose to remain in a city of Men," said Tauriel. "But I am sure one will be found. It is too important."

Dís nodded in understanding.

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to ask a favour," said Tauriel. "I know Sigrid has been attending the negotiation sessions. Kíli tells me you have a great mind for politics, and I would be grateful if you could find the time to mentor her, at least for a few sessions."

"Sigrid is King Bard's eldest daughter?" asked Dís. "I have seen her taking notes in the sessions. If her father is amenable, I would be honoured. Although Dwarf politics are quite different to other races."

"Positioned as we are, it can only be useful to learn Dwarf politics," Tauriel pointed out.

"Ah, we cannot give away all our secrets," said Dís. "But I stand by my offer."

"Thank you," said Tauriel. "We all in Dale have become used to figuring things out as we go, and I know Sigrid has been hoping to find one who is willing to teach her."

"I am honoured to be asked."

"Dís?" called a masculine voice. "What are you doing?"

"I am talking to your nephew's future wife," said Dís tartly. "It would do you good to get used to the idea, as he shows no signs of changing his mind."

This time Tauriel did rise and bow, low and deep. "Your majesty," she murmured.

The King Under the Mountain just looked uncomfortable.

After several minutes of strained silence, Tauriel bowed again. "I bid you good night, your majesty, my lady."

As soon as she was out of the room, she heard Dís start scolding her brother, and had to bite her lip not to smile.

--

Tauriel had not actually been in Kíli's rooms before. It seemed he and his brother had adjoining suites. The bed was Dwarf-sized, which pleased her to see.

Privacy was in short supply in Dale at the moment, and Kíli had been in council sessions until late every night. They hadn't had any time to themselves since that first night, and it appeared Kíli was out of patience.

He gestured for her to take the dressing chair, and curled up on the bed.

The chair was low and her knees rose an ungainly height in it, much to Kíli's amusement. She stretched her legs out instead and crossed them at the ankle.

The amber beads looked very fine in his dark hair. She wondered if he would let her braid them again.

"I hope this is not causing problems for you with your brother," said Tauriel.

Kíli shook his head. "He'll be fine with it now. He was just looking out for me because he wasn't sure you were, um. Trying to court me."

"It is said that no Elf ever gives anybody a straight answer," said Tauriel. "I did not realise Dwarves expected more direct courtship, and I apologise."

"I knew it had to be something like that," said Kíli. "I've never been so glad to say 'I told you so'."

She laughed. "Did you argue the point a lot?"

"Every night, almost," he admitted. "But that's all in the past now."

"Except that we are now engaged to be married!" Tauriel pointed out.

He groaned. "I don't think Mother is going to let us get away without a formal wedding," he said. "She likes you."

"I'm glad," said Tauriel. "I mean, I hoped so. I like her." She paused. "What does a formal wedding entail?"

Kíli launched into an explanation that went for several minutes, covering feasts and speeches and contracts. Tauriel did her best to make sense of it, although she suspected it would require several sessions before she understood all that would be required.

"Is the King Under the Mountain given the right of refusal? I do not think he shares your mother's opinion of me."

"He'll come around. Dwarves are stubborn. He knows he won't be able to change my mind."

"Nor my mind," said Tauriel. "Neither your king nor mine."

He smiled brightly at her. "Are there any of your own traditions I need to be aware of?"

"Our weddings can be as simple or as complicated as the couple desire," said Tauriel. "There are some words we must exchange, but the rest is up to us to decide. There would usually be a feast and dancing, but it sounds like we are not so different in that respect."

"I would be very surprised if your weddings did not involve feasting, knowing what I do of the Woodland Realm," said Kíli.

She laughed and rose to join him on the bed, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it. He leant against her, head on her shoulder.

"After the wedding," Tauriel ventured, "I was wondering if you might like to leave Dale for a while."

His brow furrowed. "To go to Mirkwood?"

"No… Well, we would have to pass through the Woodland Realm, but I would like to travel west through the Misty Mountains to Arnor."

His eyes lit up. "Just us?"

"If your family will allow it."

"They're your family too now," he said. "Or they will be, once we're married."

It was a strange thought. She frowned. "I do not think I could bring myself to address the Princess Under the Mountain as 'mother'."

He waved that off. "We can cross that bridge later. You really want to travel?"

"I have been happy here," said Tauriel, "And I wish to make our home here in Dale, if you are also willing. But I have always longed to see the rest of the world – fire moons and mountains, plains and woods, rivers and valleys."

"Yes," he breathed. "Yes, I would love to show you all that. I can show you where we grew up in the Blue Mountains, and we can visit Bilbo in the Shire, and we could even go to Rivendell, if you wanted." He made a face.

She slipped her arm around his waist. "I would like that."

--

Tilda broke into a run as soon as she spotted her and flung herself into Tauriel's arms. "Is it true? Are you really getting married?"

"I am," she said, ruffling Tilda's hair. "Although I don't yet know when."

"Congratulations," said Sigrid, smiling. "Tilda, stop climbing Tauriel."

Tauriel laughed and settled Tilda back on the floor. "Thank you." She swallowed before she spoke again. "Kíli tells me that it's tradition for the couple to be represented by their family in the negotiation of marriage contracts. Since I do not think my king will be amenable, I wondered if I could impose upon you to represent me, Sigrid."

Sigrid's cheeks turned bright pink and she was unable to speak for some time. Tilda elbowed her in the side. "Tauriel asked you a question," she hissed.

"Y-yes," said Sigrid. "I would be honoured. Although I know nothing of marriage contracts."

"I don't wish to cause you discomfort, and I will not be offended if you refuse. I am given to understand it is a business negotiation, not a romantic one."

"Then I agree with no hesitation," said Sigrid, relieved. "Do Dwarves really sign contracts to get married?"

Tauriel let out the breath she'd been holding. "I have the impression that Dwarves believe strongly in the power of the written word in negotiation."

"Yes! They even have their own scribe to document the treaty negotiations. He was interested in my writing. I think you may have another Sindarin student, if you so desired."

"I am not certain my teaching skills are up to educating a scribe," Tauriel protested, then realised Sigrid was teasing her. She smiled.

"Lady Dís has offered to be my tutor," said Sigrid. "Although I feel it would be bad practice to ask her to assist me with the marriage contract. I think I shall ask Chief Scribe Ori if he can obtain me copies of other couples' contracts."

"That sounds like a good start," said Tauriel.

Tilda tugged at Tauriel's sleeve. "Are you going to stay in Dale after you get married?"

"I hope to. We intend to travel a while after the wedding, but I would like to keep Dale my home."

"Good," said Tilda.

"Are you going to let Da ennoble you first?" asked Sigrid. "You're marrying a prince."

"It does not matter to me either way," said Tauriel. "I have never desired any title I did not earn myself."

"I can assure you that there are many Men – and undoubtedly many Dwarves – who do not feel the same way," said Sigrid. "If I were you I would accept the offer, when he makes it."

"You think he will make the offer?"

"I intend to make sure of it," said Sigrid, grinning. "As his newest advisor, that is."

"Is that official?" asked Tauriel, delighted.

"Whether he likes it or not, it will be," Sigrid declared.

Tauriel laughed and held her hand to her heart. "It will be well-deserved, when it happens."

"Can I be an advisor too?" asked Tilda.

"If that's what you want," replied Sigrid. "If you still want it in five years, you can ask."

"That's forever away," complained Tilda.

Tauriel laughed again. Forever it may seem to Tilda, but Tauriel knew she wanted to be here to see it.

--

Epilogue

Tauriel stood on the city walls, eyes turned to the surrounding plains. Even now, only an hour after dawn, the summer wind was hot and dry, bringing with it the mingled scents of the city – horses and livestock, flowers and the smoke of cooking fires. Grass had carpeted the hills in green, and here and there she could see yellow and white flowers dotting the hillside.

In the north, the Lonely Mountain's snow cap had receded to a few smudges in the nooks and crannies at the top. The doors were open and she could see the brightly coloured tents already set up for the summer market.

To the west, the new road stretched out towards distant Mirkwood. She could make out a caravan of travelers winding its way towards the forest edge and wondered at their purpose.

The river sparkled in the bright sunlight. She watched a barge piled high with barrels make its way south to the Long Lake, where Lake-town was being rebuilt. The debate on what to call the new town was the topic of much discussion in Dale.

She heard footfalls behind her and turned, unable to hold back a smile as Kili waved to her.

"Not having second thoughts about leaving, are you?"

"No," she said, drawing him close and bending to kiss him. "Just admiring what changes a year can bring." The amber beads in his braids caught the light and fairly glowed.

Once they broke apart, he said, "Tilda made me promise, again, that we'd come and say goodbye before we left. I think she's going to miss you."

"I will miss them," said Tauriel. "But I am looking forward to our journey." They would stop in the Elvenking's Halls first, for the sake of courtesy if nothing else. Then it was to be the Elf-path through the wood, and after that… they would see which way the wind took them.

She took his hand and held it tight. "Come on," she said. "I want to be on the road."